


Damage Control

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Blair is sexually assaulted, he and Jim work to heal themselves and each other...and discover the truth about their relationship along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damage Control

Author's Note: This story has undergone considerable revision/re-writing, and wouldn't have been possible without a lot of help and input from several different individuals. I'd like to take the time to say Thank You to James, Sherry and Sarah; I couldn't have done it without your help. 

When I first (originally) wrote this story, all I had in mind was a hurt/comfort scenario: Blair is sexually assaulted, and Jim comforts/heals him. Well, it was pointed out to me that that sort of thing isn't (generally) realistic; that it doesn't work that way. So I started to rewrite the story, and discovered along the way that Blair and Jim had a *lot* of healing (both of them) to do before they could even consider physical intimacy. 

This is not a rape story. I'd like to clarify that right off the bat. There are references to sexual assault having taken place, but the actual assault takes place *before* the story starts. What this *is*, is a hurt/comfort story, with strong emphasis on Blair and Jim helping each other to heal; discovering at the same time just what they mean to each other, and discovering the strength in their relationship. 

I hope you enjoy the story. Thank you. \--Kim Gasper, 2/11/96 

DISCLAIMER: I claim no rights to any of this (except Caldwell, Elsie, and Drs. Hamish and Peli--they're my characters); all rights are reserved by Pet Fly Productions, etc. 

WARNING: NC-17. Do not read if you're under 18. This story is intended for a mature adult audience. It contains graphic descriptions of two consenting, adult men having sex together; some references to rape, and the aftermath of dealing with it; as well as language that may be offensive to some. Copyright is mine; but you can do whatever you want with it, as long as you 1) don't make money off of it; 2) keep the headers at the top. 

## Damage Control 

(Revised)  
by Kim Gasper  
Chapter 1 - Hurting  


Blair stood in the shower, letting the hot water run over him, soothing him. It was over. *Over, over, over.* He kept chanting that to himself, figuring that eventually he'd believe it. Of course, lying to yourself didn't work quite as well as lying to someone else... He jumped slightly as he heard a noise outside the shower--wood against metal; then the door opened a bit, and he heard Jim's voice. 

"You okay, Chief?" 

"Yeah. I'll be out in a little bit, Jim." 

"Okay. Holler if you need anything." The door closed again, leaving Blair alone in the steamy closeness of the bathroom. He sighed, and leaned his head against the cool tile of the shower.   
  


It'd started so innocently; of course, all of the times he'd gotten himself into a fix had started innocently... He only wanted to help Jim out--be there for him, guide him through whatever it was he was facing. *Now who's really lying?* That insidious little voice in his head spoke up, reminding him that his intentions weren't always completely honorable when it came to Jim. He shook his head to clear those thoughts out, preferring not to deal with that. When lying didn't work, sometimes total lack of acknowledgement would.   
  


Caldwell was in custody. *Way* in custody. The Feds had taken him away that same afternoon--he'd been too hot of an item to leave hanging out in a Cascade holding cell. *Over, over, over.* Blair chanted his mantra again, remembering the man's leering face coming closer to his; tongue gagging him as Caldwell forced him into a parody of a kiss...   
  


"Blair? Sure you're okay in there?" Blair jumped, and hit his head on the tile. 

"OW! Geez, man--couldn't you warn me, or something?" Blair's voice reflected his irritation. There was a slight pause, then Jim's concerned voice. 

"Sorry, Chief. You sure you're okay?" 

It suddenly occurred to him that the water pouring over him was ice cold, and he shut the faucet off, gooseflesh breaking out on his arms and legs. "Okay--I'll be out in a minute. You don't need to keep babysitting me, man." 

"Just checking, Chief. You were in here a while." He heard the door close again, and leaned against the shower wall. It was useless to stay in here anyway--no amount of soap and water would ever make him feel clean again. He felt the bile rise up in his throat, and turned toward the toilet, helpless to stop it.   
  


Jim heard the retching begin, and turned back toward the bathroom. He opened the door and looked into the small room, and saw Blair crouched over the toilet, vomiting into it. He frowned in concern, and grabbed a wash rag that was hanging on the towel bar next to the door. Blair looked up at him when he heard the water faucet come on, but seconds later he started throwing up again--which quickly turned into dry-heaves. 

"Here, Chief." Jim ran some water into a small cup and handed it to Blair. "Take tiny sips. It might help." Blair shook his head, and closed his eyes. Jim pressed the water glass into the hand closest to him, then wiped the sweaty forehead off with the damp cloth. "Blair...what's wrong?" Jim didn't even know where to go with this one. Blair never got sick...   
  


Blair leaned back against the tub. His stomach had quit twitching for the moment. "Nothing. Just nerves, man. I'll be fine by tomorrow." 

"You sure, Chief?" 

"Yeah. Sorry you had to come in and--" He waved his hand expansively. 

"No sweat. Glad you're back, partner." 

"Thanks, Jim. Me, too."   
  


Blair emerged from the bathroom about fifteen minutes later, white and shaking. Jim frowned. Blair looked as rotten as he had when he was throwing up. He hoped there wasn't something wrong that the medic had missed. When he and Simon and the backup had arrived at the vacated logger's cabin, Blair had appeared to be okay. A little bruised-- that bastard had hit him several times--and a little shaken, but he seemed all right. He watched as Blair walked toward him, then veered off to sit on the other couch. 

"Chief?" 

"What." 

That *really* didn't sound like Blair. "Do you...are you okay?" Jim felt like he was on shaky ground here. Normally it was Blair asking *him*, pestering him with questions about his emotional well-being.   
  


"Fine." Blair looked up at him defiantly. "I'm just tired, man. I didn't get much sleep while...while he had me." *'Cause he kept me too busy doing other stuff...* The thought rose up again, and frantically his brain tried to push it down; he wasn't quick enough. Blair jumped to his feet, a panicked look on his face, and ran for the bathroom.   
  


Jim followed him, and stood outside the door, listening in concerned confusion. What the hell was going on here? Blair had been kidnapped; held for ransom. Granted, those weren't activities that happened to the average person (assuming you could ascribe "average" to Blair Sandburg, his mind threw back); but Blair had been through more rigorous, dangerous situations before, and had never reacted this strongly. Maybe the kid was suffering from PTSD -- Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He'd check with Simon tomorrow, and see if they couldn't get Blair an appointment with the staff shrink. Jim rolled his eyes then, thinking, *As if Sandburg would go!* He heard the sounds of water being swooshed around, and of spitting, and knew Blair would be out momentarily. He moved back, anticipating the door to open; and was surprised when he heard the sound of indrawn breath, and quiet gasps instead. Blair was...crying? Shit. 

"Chief--open up." He turned the knob on the door. Locked. "Dammit, Sandburg--talk to me. What's wrong?" 

The gasps stopped then; silence. Then, "Nothing. Leave me alone, Jim. I'll work it out on my own." 

"Sandburg, what the hell is going on?" 

The door did open then, and Blair stood there--eyes slightly red, but looking the same otherwise. "Leave it, man. I don't want to talk about it. I'm going to bed." He brushed past Jim, and headed for his room.   
  


Jim returned to the living area, and settled back down on the couch. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. But he couldn't think of any way to get Blair to talk unless he *wanted* to talk. Hopefully, tomorrow would be better, and he could get some answers. He turned the TV on, and downed the volume; then dozed off as the events of the last several days caught up with him.   
  


Blair lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the quiet, muted tones of the TV overlaid with the soft sounds of Jim snoring. He smiled slightly to himself; these were the sounds he'd grown used to over the last year...the sounds that meant comfort and home to him. It had been so quiet at that cabin... He felt his hands clench around the covers, balling the material into his fists. *NO! It's OVER. OVER.* His brain thought frantically, willing the thoughts down. Caldwell was gone, he couldn't hurt him anymore. Shouldn't have hurt him in the first place. Blair knew he was somewhat disadvantaged physically--his height (or lack of) made him an easy target; but it wasn't like he was totally defenseless. He should have tried harder, fought more. Of course, in the end that probably would have made it that much worse. He shook his head, rolling it back and forth on the pillow. Once upon a time, he'd thought about telling Jim how he felt about him--how he'd grown to feel. Jim would have either accepted or rejected him; and he'd have dealt with it. After all, people did eventually get over unrequited love--sometimes it just took a while. But that option had been snatched from him before he'd had a chance to make that decision. No way could he go to Jim now--he'd been contaminated. Damaged goods, so to speak. Blair lay there in the darkness, silent tears streaming down his cheeks; crying for something he'd never had, and never could have.   
  


Jim woke suddenly in the pre-dawn light, sentinel senses reaching out for the noise that had caught his attention. He was surprised to find himself fully clothed, laying on the couch; but left those thoughts as he searched for the noise. There it was...it was... 

"Noooo!!!" Jim leapt to his feet as the wail curled through the apartment; chilling his insides. "No! No more! Leave me alone..." 

"Blair!" Jim called out Blair's name as he pushed through the door. Blair was sitting up in bed, staring straight ahead with sightless eyes; arms stretched forward pleadingly, in supplication. 

"No more...please...don't. Leave me alone--" 

"Blair." Jim sat next to him, and spoke softly; although he didn't touch him. As tense and tight as Blair looked, Jim was afraid he'd shatter if he touched him. "Blair. Wake up." 

Blair's shoulders relaxed slightly then, and his eyes gradually focused. They widened with surprise to see Jim sitting on the edge of his bed, but he didn't say anything. 

"You were having a nightmare, Chief. You okay?" 

"Yeah, I guess so." Blair looked down at his hands, which were worrying at the blanket. "I'll manage. Sorry I woke you, man." 

"It's okay. I crashed on the couch--good thing you did, or I'd never had gotten up this morning." He hesitantly touched Blair's arm. "Want to talk about it?" 

Blair's face closed up. "No." He answered, shortly. "I don't." 

"Okay." Jim stood up. "We've got to be down at the station at eight to finish the paperwork the Feds left for us. I'm gonna get a shower. Do you need in the bathroom first?" 

"No." 

Jim searched his face for a minute, looking for anything that might reveal a chink in the armor Blair had erected. Nothing. "Alright. How 'bout making us some breakfast then?" 

"Sure. Eggs okay?" 

"Fine."   
  


Jim stared into the mirror, shaving forgotten as he listened again to the sounds of Blair crying. He found his hands shaking in rage as he wondered what in the hell that bastard had done to Blair. His reflection stared back at him, mocking him. How in the hell was he supposed to fix something he knew nothing about? What had happened to being Blair's Blessed Protector? He was supposed to *be* there for the younger man. He *should* have been there. Whatever had happened, he should've been the one it happened to. Not Blair. 

Jim smiled ruefully into the mirror, and began shaving again. Blair wasn't a little boy to be held back from the world, wrapped in cotton. He was a full-grown adult who was surprisingly capable of taking care of himself -- when he was paying attention to the world around him. Blair's problem was that he was usually so wrapped up in the thousands of ideas bouncing around in his brain he forgot to notice what was going on around him. Still, that didn't mean that anything bad should happen to him; Jim felt guilty that he hadn't been there--to stop whatever.   
  


The eggs and toast were done, and sitting dished up on plates on the table, and Blair was pouring orange juice when Jim walked into the living area. The younger man looked pale; but his hands were steady, Jim noted. He didn't seem to be quite as upset as he'd been earlier. Maybe it had just been the nightmare getting to him. The odd thing though--what was it...something was off kilter here. His hair! Blair had his hair... 

"What the hell did you do to your hair?" 

Blair looked up at him. "I cut it." 

"Why in the hell did you do that?" Jim was totally stunned. 

Blair shrugged. "It was something I needed to do." 

"Since when?" 

"Since now. Jim...please. Just leave it alone, okay? Stop bugging me, man." He sat down at the table and picked up a fork, forcing some of the eggs into his mouth. Jim saw the shudder as Blair swallowed, but didn't comment on it. Something *really* weird was going on. 

"I'm going to have Simon make an appointment for you with the Force's shrink." Jim offered the comment casually as he sat down, wondering what Blair's response to that would be. 

His head shot up in surprise, eyes wide with concern. "Why would you do that?" 

"Because you're acting...strange, Blair. C'mon, Chief. Since when would you cut your hair? You've been throwing up since we got home--your hands are shaking. I think you're suffering from PTSD--and need someone to talk to about it. If you don't want to talk to me, fine. I understand. But you need to talk to someone." 

"I don't need to talk to anyone. I just need everyone to leave me alone for a while, and let me calm down." 

"You're not calming down though--that's the point. You've been home for almost 24 hours, and you're turning into a basket case. The Blair Sandburg *I* know wouldn't ever have cut his hair--no matter what was going on." 

"Maybe you don't know the real Blair Sandburg," Blair shot back recklessly. "I'm not seeing the shrink. Period, end of statement." 

"Wrong, Chief. You are." Jim sat back and looked at Blair, real concern in his eyes. Blair was sitting there, staring back at him--blue eyes totally unfocused. Almost like a zone out. Jim concentrated and he could hear Blair's heartbeat--racing out of control. He knew almost at the same time Blair did that Blair was going to throw up again, and he was only a couple of steps behind when Blair bolted for the bathroom. 

"Oh...shit." The softly spoken words filled his head. Blair hadn't closed the door this time, so Jim poked his head in the door, foreboding clenching at his stomach. With a sense of shock that ripped through him like lightening, Jim saw the blood staining the toilet red. 

"All right. That's it. Come on." Jim grabbed Blair, and hauled him off the floor. "Let's go." 

"Where? Hey, let go, man. You're hurting me--" Blair struggled with Jim, then gave up as the bigger man only pulled him along. 

"We're going to the hospital. Jesus, Blair. You're throwing up *blood*. Doesn't that bother you at all?" He looked back at Blair, who gave him a stony look. "Well, it's scaring the shit out of me. Come on." Blair followed along, reluctantly, and Jim pushed him into the truck.   
  


* * *

  


"Detective Ellison?" Jim looked up as the nurse called him. 

"Yes. How is Blair?" 

"Mr. Sandburg is resting comfortably right now. Would you like to see him? It'll be a few minutes before the doctor can speak with you." 

"Yes." 

"Follow me, please." 

Jim stood up and followed the nurse down the hallway, and out of the emergency/trauma area. "Where are we going?" 

"Well, the doctor admitted Mr. Sandburg for observation. He's on the second floor." 

Shit. He'd have to call Simon again. "What's wrong with him?" 

"You'll have to wait and talk to the doctor, Detective." She led him up one flight of stairs, and into a small, private room. Blair was laying on the bed, almost as pale as the sheets, with two IVs feeding into his arm. He rolled his head restlessly, but didn't open his eyes. "The doctor has given him something to relax him, and help him sleep. He'll fill you in on everything in a few minutes." 

"Thank you." Jim watched her fidget with the IVs, then leave the room. He hooked a chair with his foot, and pulled it over to the side of the bed. "Sandburg...what have you done to yourself this time?" He wondered out loud.   
  


It took the doctor almost 20 minutes to get to him. Blair had moved restlessly, and mumbled a little, but hadn't wakened. Jim was pacing the floor of the room when the door opened, revealing a tall, thin man in a white coat. 

"Hi. You Detective Ellison?" 

"Hi, yeah. You are?" Jim stuck his hand out, and the doctor grasped it. 

"Doctor Hamish. Nice to meet you. How well do you know our young friend here?" Dr. Hamish gestured to where Blair was sleeping. 

"Well enough. We've been--partners for the last two years." 

"Okay. That's why you're listed as his emergency contact?" 

"Yes. Why?" 

There was a long pause as the doctor considered what to say. 

"Dr. Hamish--what in the hell is going on?" 

"Let's go talk out in the hallway, Detective." The Doctor gestured to Jim to proceed him, and closed the door behind them. 

Jim folded his arms over his chest, and leaned against the wall. "Well?" 

"Mr. Sandburg is suffering from extensive stress-related symptoms. The most notable is the raw stomach--which caused the bleeding when he vomited." At Jim's impatient nod, he continued. "He also appears to be suffering from dehydration--understandable if he's not keeping anything down; and from exhaustion. He says he was a kidnap victim." The doctor paused for a moment, waiting for Jim's reply. 

"Yes--he was kidnapped when I was decoyed from the kidnapper's trail. As far as we know, he was knocked around a bit--the medic at the station checked him out and said he was fine." 

"Fine." The doctor repeated the last word, and looked at Jim. "Detective--Mr. Sandburg shows evidence of having been the victim of both physical and sexual assault." 

Jim stared at the doctor, shock blurring the edge of his vision. "You mean raped? Are you sure?" 

Dr. Hamish suddenly looked older. "Yes. In addition to extensive bruising over a large portion of his body there is evidence of some soft tissue damage--he's not bleeding internally, but there is some underlying swelling. He also exhibits signs of forced anal penetration--there is some tearing that we repaired." Dr. Hamish stopped talking for a minute, pausing as if deciding what to say next. He took a breath and continued. "Mr. Sandburg confirmed the assault for us. We are, of course, required to notify the police in such situations. Since you are--" 

"I'll take care of it." Jim closed his eyes at the thought. "What about...tests." 

Dr. Hamish looked confused for a moment. "Tests? Oh, you mean...Yes, we ran a blood screen, and an HIV test. The results won't be back for several days. Mr. Sandburg can come back and get his results in person, or he can call in." 

Jim just stared at the Doctor, listening without hearing. Why the hell hadn't Blair said something? For that matter, why hadn't *he* tried harder to find out? Or made a few guesses. He knew what some of these monsters were capable of. He shook his head, feeling the weight of enormous guilt pressing down on him. "Shit." So much for the Blessed Protector. No wonder Blair had been acting like he had--if he couldn't rely on Jim to keep him safe... 

"Detective. I'm going to keep him here for a while for observation, but physically he's all right to leave the hospital. Just needs some rest, and some fluids. He *is* however, going to need some counseling. Can you take care of arranging that, or should I send a counselor in to talk to him?" 

Jim shook his head. "No, I'll take care of it. It's my fault--I should be the one to fix it." 

"That sort of thinking isn't going to do you or him any good, Detective." Dr. Hamish wrote a few things down on a prescription pad, and handed it to Jim. "These are some relaxants. Until he gets going with the counseling--and I recommend you get it started as soon as possible. The rape crisis center is a good place to start. Anyway, you can get the prescription filled downstairs at the pharmacy." 

"Thanks, Doctor. Can I go in and see him again before I leave?" 

"I don't see why not. I don't recommend talking to him about the assault yet though--let him rest and calm down a little." 

"Okay." 

They shook hands, and Jim went back into Blair's room. His eyes were open, and although his gaze was a little unfocused, his eyes zeroed in on Jim. 

"What's goin' on, man?" 

"Hey, Chief. How you feel?" Jim sat down in the chair, and reached for Blair's hand. He felt the tremor that ran through Blair, and let go after giving it a squeeze. 

"Like hell. What happened?" 

"You were throwing up blood, so I brought you to the hospital. I guess whatever they gave you to make you sleep was pretty potent. You've been here for about four hours, asleep for most of that time." 

Blair's eyes widened, and Jim felt himself drawn into that gaze. He wished it had been him in Blair's place...wished he'd had one last chance to smash his fist into Caldwell's smirking face. Now he understood that smirk. It made him even madder. 

"Jim?" 

"Yeah, Chief?" 

"Are they going to keep me here?" Blair looked around the room. "I'd rather be home." 

"The doctor wants to keep you for observation for a while-- he said you could probably go home this evening." He moved his hand to place it on Blair's shoulder, but pulled away as he saw the younger man flinch. He pretended he hadn't noticed, and smiled. "Until then, you need to rest." He looked at Blair laying there, and had to resist the impulse to run his fingers through the shorn hair. Poor kid. How was he ever going to fix this one? "Okay, Sandburg?" 

Blair waved his hand, actually looking like himself for the first time in a few days. "Yeah, whatever. Just get me out of here as soon as you can. I am so *not* into hospitals, man. They really give me the creeps." 

"And this is the guy who was telling me to relax for my physical?" 

Blair grinned for the first time since Jim had found him; and he felt his heart stop beating for a second. "Yeah, well, that was you...this is me." He yawned. "If I can't leave right now, I guess I'll take another nap." 

"Whatever you say, Chief." Jim grinned at him. "I've got to get down to the station now, and do *our* paperwork. I'll call later, and see what time the Doc's going to let you out." 

"Okay." Blair looked down at the sheets for a minute, then back up at Jim. "Thanks, man. I guess I was stressing out. No big deal, and I fall apart. Sorry." 

Jim winced inwardly. No big deal. Right. "No problem, Chief. Happens to the best of us." He smiled again, and stood up. "Call me at the station if you need anything. I'll stick around there today." 

"Okay." 

"Okay. 'Bye." 

"'Bye."   
  


Blair watched Jim leave, wondering why he didn't say anything about the rape. Maybe the doctor hadn't told him. After all, there was that privacy act thing, and he was certainly a legal adult. He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Jim's hand holding his...squeezing it...the feeling of comfort that washed over him with that gesture. If only he could have that all the time--he'd feel safe then. He didn't blame Jim; not exactly. He had known the whole time that Jim was trying to find him, knew he *would* find him. But he hurt so bad--not just physically; but emotionally too...it was hard not to affix some of the blame. Maybe he was doing that so it wouldn't hurt so bad thinking about how much he loved him...loved him, and now could never have him... He sobbed quietly with the pain, and cried himself to sleep.   
  
  
Chapter 2 - Revelations   


Jim drove to the hospital; looking at but not seeing the sun setting over the harbor. He'd talked to Simon when he'd returned to the station. He didn't like disclosing confidences, but felt this was warranted. Blair was going to need help, and Jim wanted to be there for him. Simon had agreed and granted him two weeks unofficial leave--as long as he came in from time to time for appearances. Jim had agreed to that, it was more than fair. After talking with Simon he'd gone to see the psychiatrist assigned to the Force, and explained the problem without using Blair's name. The psychiatrist had recommended several counselors who had specialized in rape trauma, and echoed the doctor's warning to get Blair into counseling as quickly as possible. Now, he was going to pick up his partner...He swallowed down the feelings of rage and guilt. The doctor was right--it wouldn't do Blair any good to have him beating himself up over this. Still, he couldn't help but wish he'd been there; had gotten there earlier...or had just *seen* the signs. He was a cop, for Chrissakes! He'd should've seen what was wrong... Blair was waiting in front of the hospital for him, and Jim was shaken by the strong urge he suddenly had to wrap Blair in his arms and hold him until they both stopped shaking. He shook his head. *Kid's really gotten to me.* He brought the truck to a stop, and opened the door for Blair; wondering all the while how he was going to bring up the subject of the rape.   
  
  


It took exactly 24 hours for things to come to a head, and force the issue. Blair had wondered why Jim was hanging around the condo--and had finally asked him point blank about it. Jim told him just that he felt like he needed a few days off, and was going to keep an eye on Blair until he got his strength back. He didn't add that he was now fighting an almost constant desire to wrap Blair in an embrace and never let go. He'd given up trying to figure out where the urge was coming from. Blair had grown on him. This was obviously a manifestation of that. Blair retorted that he didn't need a babysitter, and could take care of himself- Jim should get back to work. 

"I need to stay here, make sure you're okay." 

"Aren't you carrying your Blessed Protector role a little far, Jim? You need a life, man. Go out, get some dinner or something." Blair was curled up on the couch, looking better than he had in days, but not yet ready to try the world. He was irritated that Jim was staying so close--it was hard enough to love someone you couldn't have from a distance; when that person closed the distance, and got all touchy-feely on top of it, it got damned hard to deal with. And what *was* with that touchy- feely stuff? It wasn't like Jim had never touched him before, but this was...different. Fear seized him again for a minute-- fear that Jim knew about the rape, and was treating him differently because of it. He still hadn't said anything though, so maybe not.   
  


Jim heard Blair's heartrate increase; could see the perspiration slide down the side of his face, and wondered what had brought this panic on. He touched Blair's leg, and started at the jolt of energy that surged through him. Just as quickly as he'd touched him, he pulled back. Didn't want Blair to get the wrong impression. 

"I don't want to go out--I'm fine staying in for a few days." 

"Well, it's your loss, man. I'm tired. I'm going to bed." 

He walked out without another word, and Jim sighed. This was going to be harder than he'd thought. He needed to bring up the rape--he had an appointment for Blair the day after tomorrow. That was the earliest any of the doctors could get him in; which was fine with him, it gave him a chance to talk to Blair about it. Jim turned out the lights and went upstairs. He might as well go to bed, too.   
  
  


"Oh GOD, NO!!!! No! Don't...please, no..." The scream of terror, followed by tearful pleadings brought Jim bolt upright in bed, reaching for his gun. It was Blair--he bounded out of bed and down the stairs, expecting someone to be there, physically assaulting his guide. There was no one in sight. A nightmare then. He set the gun by the door; then went to Blair's door, and knocked softly. No answer, beyond the whimpering sounds of Blair pleading with the monster in his dreams. 

"Blair." Jim opened the door, and walked in. Moonlight streamed through the crack in the curtains, and Jim could see the blue eyes open wide, a terrified look in their depths. "Blair. Hey, Chief. Wake up." He sat on the bed, and put a hand on Blair's shoulder, to shake him gently. It was a mistake--Blair reacted, and he wasn't prepared. Before Jim could do anything Blair had grabbed hold and flipped him over, hands reaching for his neck. 

"Nooooo...No more! Not again!" He wailed, over and over. Jim reached up and grabbed at his hands, wrestling to break the hold that Blair could never have managed, had he not been enraged with terror. 

"Sandburg! It's me! Me, Jim. C'mon, Blair. Hear my voice...you know me." Jim panted the words out. He wondered what he'd do if he couldn't get through to him--Blair's hands were like vice grips on his neck, and he couldn't seem to pry them loose. "Blair...Blair, it's me. You're safe. Come on..." He felt the hands loosening, then heard the sobs starting. Jim sat up and gently wrapped his arms around Blair; held him almost on his lap, and let him sob. As the sobs abated somewhat Jim could feel Blair's body tense up, and he quickly let go of him. Blair sat back slightly, looking askance at Jim. 

"Oh, God...man, I could have killed you. I thought you were..." 

"You thought I was Caldwell." 

"Yeah. I'm sorry, man." Blair sniffed some, and shifted slightly, changing position so he was next to Jim. 

"You okay?" At Blair's nod Jim continued. "Chief, I know about the rape. The doctor told me." 

Blair froze. Oh, God...it had all been true then. Jim had been hanging around out of pity... 

"Blair?" 

He refocused on Jim's voice. "Yeah?" Was that his voice sounding so rusty? His shoulders slumped. 

"Want to tell me about it?" 

"Not especially." 

"How about you do anyway, huh? You need to talk about it." Blair sighed, then trembled when he felt Jim pick his hand up. 

"Jim...d-don't touch me, okay?" 

Jim released his hand. "Okay, Chief. Whatever you want." There was a slight pause, then; "I'm right here, Chief. You're safe, and I'm going to keep you that way." There was an odd quality to Jim's voice, but Blair shrugged it away. He needed to keep his thoughts tightly focused, if he was going to do this. Blair pushed down the wave of nausea that was trying to engulf him, and began to talk.   
  


"He got me when I stopped home to get those papers I'd left here." He'd been grading papers for another teacher, helping out since the guy'd just had a personal emergency. In a hurry to get to school to post the grades for his class, he'd forgotten them. Caldwell was waiting for him in the hallway. "He told me later how he gave you the slip, but I wasn't really listening, at that point." Jim felt the body next to him stiffen further in remembrance, and he lightly touched Blair's hand briefly, for comfort and support. Blair sighed, and continued. "He gave me a drug--you know, a shot? And it knocked me out. Well, not totally--I was, like, awake but not awake. You know? Anyway, when I came to we were in this cabin, and he was sitting there watching me. I wasn't tied up, or anything, but I couldn't move. He told me it was the drug...that I wouldn't be able to move until it wore off. Then he said, "'you're going to be mine for the next couple of days, pretty boy. You've got the prettiest ass I've seen since I got out of prison--figure it's time I got a taste of ol' Jim's boy-toy.'" "Then he leaned over and kissed me. Or actually, he shoved his tongue down my throat...and...and--" He choked on the words, and Jim felt the tremors shaking Blair's body, radiating off of him in waves. He wanted to reach over and take Blair into his arms, just hold him, comfort him. He settled for what he hoped was a reassuring tone. 

"I don't need the details, Chief," he told him softly. "I get the picture." 

"No...you don't. He wouldn't settle for just...for just raping me. He had to have sex with me, and make me want it too." 

"How?" 

"Well, he said the stuff he gave me contained a--a mixture of things. One of them would make me...not willing, maybe...but pliable. So I wouldn't resist as much. And he did...s-stuff, and I...I...oh, shit, Jim--I *liked* some of it..." Tears began streaming down his face again, and Jim reached up to wipe them away, pulling back when Blair flinched away from him. "I'm sorry, Jim..." 

"It's okay, Chief." He ached again to hold him and give him some measure of comfort, settled once more for a soothing tone. "Shh. It's okay." 

Blair resisted the verbal comfort, scrubbing angrily at the tears on his face. "No it's not, dammit. I couldn't help having to lay there--I didn't *have* to respond!" 

"Chief, sometimes our bodies betray us. We're not always in control--especially when it comes to sex." 

"That doesn't make it all right," Blair muttered. "There was more. He would...he...really liked my hair--kept running his fingers through it; played with it...one time he made me...he wrapped himself...in it..." Blair's heartrate had reached a incredible speed and volume. Concerned, Jim looked closely at his face--he appeared to be on the verge of hyperventilating. 

"Blair. Calm down. It's okay--you're safe..." A thought occurred to him suddenly. "Was that why you cut your hair off?" 

Blair nodded mutely. "I couldn't stand the thought of touching what he'd touched..." He froze, then flinched away violently as he felt Jim's fingers touch the short curls. "What are you doing?" 

Jim pulled his hand back, his fingertips aching to touch the curls...to stroke that silky-looking hair. "I'm sorry. I--wish you had told me this, Blair. Your hair was..." Jim broke off, shaking his head. *This is nuts,* he told himself. "I loved your hair," Jim finished softly, figuring, In for a penny, in for a pound. He paused, waited a beat, then asked in an even gentler tone, "How many times did he rape you, Blair?" 

There was dead silence for a long moment, then Blair quietly said, "Rape? Once, I guess. Sex? I lost count." 

Jim found himself shaking with the rage that was going through him. He drew his hand away from Blair's hair, and clenched his fists, waited for the shaking to stop--so he could think coherently again. "I should have been there for you. It should have been me he was--" 

Blair cut him off. "It's not your fault, man. I was the stupid one who came back here after you told me not to. I was the one who laid there like a...like a *whore* and took it from him! I could've fought back--I should have tried harder." 

"Sandburg--how could you fight back if you were drugged?" 

"I wasn't drugged the whole time--just at the beginning." 

"Still. You were being victimized--I saw some of the bruises--he beat the shit out of you, where we couldn't see, didn't he?" 

"Yes." Blair bowed his head, the uneven bangs falling into his eyes. "How could you even stand to touch me, man? It makes me sick to my stomach to look at myself in the mirror...and you..." 

"Because it wasn't your fault. Christ, Chief--that's like blaming an elderly person who has an accident because they can't get out of bed. Its. Not. Your. Fault." He leaned a little closer to Blair, and snared his eyes. Dark blue eyes, troubled and scared, looked back at him. "I love you, Chief. There's nothing *to* stand. *You* were victimized. *You* were assaulted. *You* *haven't* done anything wrong. Got it?" 

Blair stared at him, uncomprehendingly, and Jim sighed. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across Blair's, then pulled back before the younger man could panic. Blair was looking up at him with a mixture of shock, sadness, and regret in those big eyes. "Oh, God...Man, you shouldn't have kissed me, Jim." He hugged his arms to himself. "Oh, you shouldn't have done that...I can't..." 

"What, Chief? You can't what?" 

"I can't let you do this...I'm damaged goods, man. You can't love me--" He broke off, startled, when Jim's hands clamped down on his shoulders and swiveled him around to stare at him. 

"You listen to me, Blair. You are *not* damaged goods. I do love you. I've loved you for a long time, I think--I was just never aware of it. If you've got some ill-conceived notion of not being "good enough", or some other shit like that--just get it out of your head. Okay? I love you." 

"I love you, too." It was whispered, and though Jim's sentinel sense heard it, his brain couldn't quite believe it. 

"What?" 

"I love you." Blair's voice was still low, and he looked down at his lap. "I've loved you for so long now... It was like an ache that didn't go away--you know, like a toothache you get used to? I got used to loving you; and knowing you didn't feel that way about me...but I could still be near you. I thought about talking to you about it, but then Caldwell came, and I..." 

"You assumed I wouldn't be interested because of that." 

Blair nodded. 

"Nice opinion you have of me, Chief. As for not feeling that way about you--how the hell could you know what I didn't even know?" 

"I don't know. I just figured you wouldn't be interested..." 

"Do me a favor? Next time you have an idea about me, let me know; so I can give you *my* thoughts about it, okay?" He smiled at Blair. 

"Sure." 

Jim removed his hands from Blair's shoulders, letting them lay in his lap where they fell. "So...where do we go from here, Chief? It's your call." 

"I don't know, Jim. I don't know what to do." He shrugged. "Get on with life, I guess." 

Jim dipped his head and snagged Blair's eyes with his own. "I love you, Chief. Nothing's going to change that. I loved you before you were raped; I love you now. If anything, I love you even more--you're a strong person, Blair. Don't let anyone sell you short on that." 

"I'm not strong," Blair protested. "Man, I ended up in the hospital! That's not strong." 

"You needed to be in the hospital--you needed medical attention. That's not weakness, Chief--that's being human. Look, if we'd all been doing our jobs--me, Simon, the medic--we'd have seen that there was more than just a few bruises wrong with you. You'd have gotten care right away." 

Blair sighed and turned his head away. "I didn't want you to know." 

"I know that." Jim remained silent then until Blair looked at him again. "You survived, Chief. That makes you strong." 

"If you say so." 

"I do." Jim narrowed his eyes. "What's it going to take to convince you?" 

"Time, I suppose." Blair returned Jim's gaze, before dropping his back down to the hands clasped in his lap. He opened his mouth, but Jim had to engage Sentinel hearing to catch the whispered "And you." 

"We've got time, Chief. And you've got me. I have an appointment for you--and me--with a counselor who specializes in rape." 

Blair winced slightly. "Do you have to keep saying that?" 

"It happened, Chief. We have to deal with it. Not saying it isn't going to make it go away." 

Blair sighed. "I know..." 

"Even if *you* don't think you need a counselor, *I* do-- we're going to have to deal with this together, because it affects us both. Got it, Chief?" 

Blair looked up at Jim, astonishment shining in his eyes. "You--" He stopped and licked his lips to wet them. "You're going to go to counseling with me?" 

"I don't think there's any other choice here. If we're ever going to be able to have a relationship together we need to work together to heal you." 

"Okay," Blair said in a weak voice. How could he refuse? It would seem so selfish. He slowly reached a hand out to Jim, and clasped the one offered to him. Sentinel; protector; friend; and maybe, someday, lover. This man was so special to him he didn't even know words to describe it. "It's going to be all right," he whispered to himself, looking down at Jim's hand, held in his. 

Jim's voice, strong and sure above him. "Yes, it is. Now."   
  
  
Chapter 3 - Healing (The beginning)   


"It's been almost two months! How the fuck long is this going to take? Huh? How long before he can lean in towards me-- *touch* me--without me flinching away?" Blair had raised his voice until he was nearly shouting the final word. 

"Blair--" Jim started to interrupt, to protest that he didn't care *how* long it took; but Dr. Peli caught his attention and shook his head. Jim closed his mouth, and sat back; watched with concern as his partner paced the room. Blair never swore. Well, maybe not never--but certainly not like he'd been swearing lately. 

Dr. Peli was trying to calm Blair down. "It takes as long as it takes, Blair. Every person is different. What you went through is unique unto you--even if I had someone else who'd experienced the exact same thing, their reaction would be different because we're all different." 

Blair snorted with disgust. "Fine for you to say. But man, this really sucks. Are you even doing me any good? I mean, what's the point in coming here and talking to you, if I don't feel any different?" 

"You don't feel any different at all?" 

"No." Sullenly. 

"Are you still having nightmares?" 

"Sometimes." 

"But not every night?" 

Pause. "No." The sullen look on Blair's face changed slightly, and Jim felt his heart stop for a measure of beats. He almost looked--peaceful--for a minute. Then the sullen look was back. He checked his watch and noticed that their session was almost over. Dr. Peli noticed the motion, and turned his attention to Jim. "Did you have any concerns you wanted to bring up, Jim?" 

"No--not right now." He didn't. Nothing beyond the 'when- is-Blair-going-to-be-all-right' variety. 

"Well, if you'd like to leave then, I'd like a moment with Blair." Dr. Peli gestured toward the door. 

"Sure Doc. Chief, I'll see you outside in a little bit, okay?" 

"Yeah, whatever, man." Blair wouldn't even look at him this time, and Jim sighed. 

"Okay." He let himself out the door, and paused for a moment, hearing Blair's voice raise again. He shook himself, tempted for a minute to give in and tune in what he was saying; then moved down the corridor to the lobby.   
  


Jim found a seat and got settled, then leaned back and closed his eyes. It had been a long hour today. Blair was so angry right now--at himself, at Jim, at the world. He cast his mind backwards to reflect on the last couple of months. Blair had been going to counseling twice a week--once on his own, and once with Jim. Jim was also going on his own once a week, although that was going to stop after the next session. He didn't require on-going sessions by himself any longer...the ones with Blair would be adequate for whatever would arise. He snorted softly to himself, trying to convince himself that this was true. Blair had been on an emotional roller-coaster for the last month, he'd taken Jim along for the ride--and the ride didn't appear to be over yet. 

Jim settled himself more comfortably into his chair, and thought back to those first weeks...   
  


* * *

  


Those first couple of weeks had been the scariest. Blair had nightmares every night, often more than once. Jim camped out on the couch, so he could be closer to him. They tried once-- just once--to have Blair sleep in bed with Jim, but it was too much--just the proximity of Jim's body to his set off a panic attack as soon as Blair closed his eyes. Jim woke to the sound of Blair gasping for air; screaming incoherently and striking out at anything and everything. It had taken most of the rest of the night to get him calmed back down--and settled in his own bed...with Jim on the couch again. That week had seemed endless...even after counseling started.   
  


After seeing that panic, the anger was almost welcome. At least it was an emotion Jim could deal with--even when Blair aimed it at him. And anger was sure a damn sight better than the guilt that Blair insisted on pulling around with him.   
  


Doctor Peli had warned both of them that there would be rough seas ahead--that this wouldn't be easy. Trauma from sexual assault was a hard thing to deal with; there were so many variables that combined to bring up so many different feelings. Jim was having a hard time understanding why Blair was feeling so guilty. "It wasn't his fault! Doesn't he understand that?" Dr. Peli hadn't said anything, as usual. He liked to make Jim work for his answers. Jim continued, "Then there's this enjoying thing. He told me that he enjoyed parts of it. I guess...Well, I have to admit--that bothers me, too, Doc." Jim had said, feeling a weird tightening in his gut. "I mean...is that normal?" 

"What do you mean, Jim?" 

"Is it normal to--enjoy it?" 

"That would depend on what 'it' would be, I suppose. And your definition of enjoyment." 

"Okay, and..." Jim raised his eyebrows at the doctor. 

"And what, Jim?" 

"How can he think he enjoyed non-consensual sex?" 

"What if it weren't considered non-consensual?" 

"*What*?" 

"What if Blair didn't consider it be non-consensual? How do you feel about that?" 

"I'm not--sure." Actually, it made him feel sick inside. "It...sounds weird to me." 

"Does that sound like Blair?" 

Jim looked at the doctor, surprised. "No--but how in the hell did you know that?" 

"I've been a rape counselor for years, Detective. Blair isn't the first person to come in here and say that such-and-such wasn't really forced, and therefore maybe enjoyable...simply because they knew that struggling wouldn't help." 

"You're saying that Blair thinks that because he didn't fight back it was consensual--and that's why he says he enjoyed it?" 

"Yes." 

"That's crazy! That's--" What? Jim thought helplessly. How did you counter such convoluted logic as that? 

"*That's* normal," The doctor emphasized. "That's what he and I will be working on. Among other issues." The doctor leveled a look at Jim that made him want to squirm in his seat. "You are an issue yourself. Are you going to be okay knowing we're talking about you?" 

"I--yes. Yeah, I can deal with it." 

"Are you sure?" 

"I have to be." 

"You love him very much, don't you?" 

"Yes." He nearly whispered the word. "I want him to be able to get over this...not for me; although I want that too, but for him. I want Blair back--not...whoever this is." 

"Blair is never going to be the same, Detective. All of our experiences change us, on a day-to-day basis. Some have the ability to make more profound changes in a short period of time. Sexual assault is one of those experiences. We will work through the emotions and feelings associated with that experience; but Blair will never be the Blair you've known in the past. Neither will you--this has changed your life as well."   
  


* * *

  


"Jim." 

Jim opened his eyes. He was in the medical center. A voice calling him... 

"Jim?" 

Blair's voice. He refocused his attention to the present. "Hey, Chief. Ready to go?" 

"Yeah." 

"Station or home?" 

"Home, if you don't mind. I have some things I need to think about." 

"Sure, partner." Jim got to his feet and followed Blair out of the building. The wind had picked up while they were inside, and there were clouds gathering in the distance. Jim shivered. "Think it'll rain tonight?" 

Blair shrugged. "Does it matter?" 

"Guess not. Just trying to make conversation." 

"Sorry, Jim. I'm just...all in my head right now. I have some things I have to think about." 

"It's okay, Chief. Don't worry about it." He unlocked the truck and climbed in, then reached over and unlocked the passenger side. "Want to stop and pick up some lunch first?" 

"No." 

"Okay." *Just leave it alone, Jim.* His mind counseled. When Blair was ready to talk; he'd talk.   
  


He dropped Blair off at the loft, waiting until he saw his head poke out the window to know he got inside okay. Then he put the truck in gear and headed for the station. Half-way there he knew he wasn't going to be any use to Simon after all, and called in to his long-time friend, explaining that he needed some time off today to do some thinking. 

Blair was at home, which meant he couldn't go there. Where, then? He settled on a coffee-house near the harbor, and turned the truck in that direction, his mind returning to that first week.   
  


* * *

  


He remembered how he'd gone into the station one afternoon, about a week after he and Blair had started counseling. Simon had needed his input on some things, and wasn't comfortable discussing it over the phone. Blair was sleeping when Jim left, so he left him a note; and headed out. He'd returned to the loft about three hours later to the sounds of screams from within. Afraid that someone was in their apartment, Jim drew his gun and crept up to the door. He shouldered his way inside; and drew up short at the sight of Blair, huddled in the corner of the living room by the patio door, clutching a pillow to his chest. Screaming. Jim dropped the gun on the table; slammed the door shut and ran over to him, only to come to a sudden, screeching halt. *Don't touch me*, rang in his mind. Blair hadn't rescinded that order yet, given the first night they'd talked. 

He approached the younger man slowly, talking in a calm, soothing voice. "Hey, Chief...shhh...shhh...it's okay, Blair. I'm home...shh...you're okay. Blair?" Jim moved in cautiously, slowly, until he was next to Blair. He dropped to his knees, then sat down completely. Blair had stopped screaming, but was rocking back and forth, a faraway expression in his eyes. 

"I dreamed he was here, Jim..." His voice sounded faraway, too. "He was here and you weren't...you said you'd always be there for me..." A tear slipped down Blair's cheek, and Jim was surprised to feel moisture on his own. "You weren't here, Jim. Where were you? Why'd you leave?" 

"I had to go to the office, Chief. You were sleeping. Didn't you see the note I left?" 

"I saw the note...why'd you leave, Jim? Why'd you leave me with him?" 

"Blair...what are you talking about? Caldwell is gone. *Gone*." 

"I know." 

Jim shook his head. "Chief--what's wrong? Is it because I didn't wake you up?" 

"I had a dream and woke up and you weren't here, and I could still see his face..." The tears were coming faster now, and Blair reached up to wipe them away. Jim felt a tide of helplessness rising in him. What could he do? His hands clenched to keep from reaching for Blair; he ached to hold him and comfort him--offer him the support of himself to lean on. 

"I'm sorry, Chief. I won't do that again." 

"Promise?" 

"I promise. I'm sorry, Blair. So sorry." Jim leaned his head down towards Blair, and touched his forehead to the younger man's. Blair leaned into him slightly, and they remained that way for several minutes; foreheads resting against each other, tears sliding silently down two sets of cheeks.   
  


* * *

  


A loud horn blaring brought Jim back to the present to realize he was sitting at a green light. He waved to the driver behind him, and wondered with grim humor what that guy would've thought if he'd known Jim was a cop.   
  


The coffee house was just another block up, so Jim parked the truck at a meter and headed up. He pulled the collar of his jacket up, and turned into the wind. It was with no small amount of relief that the coffee house quickly came into view, and he picked up his pace. The place was kind of slow today--maybe since it was a week-day--and for that he was grateful. He sat down and placed his order for a pot of Columbian and a ham and roast-beef sandwich, then resumed his train of thought.   
  


* * *

  


By the time the fourth week of therapy was in full-swing Blair was able to spend the day alone in the loft--as long as Jim checked in occasionally. He told Jim he wanted to return to work as soon as possible; and the doctor backed that up. The sooner Blair was able to return to a normal schedule, the sooner he would heal himself. 

"What's everyone been saying about me?" Blair asked one night at dinner. 

"Huh?" Jim had been concentrating on some papers he'd brought home, and had missed the question. 

"What're they saying about me at the station?" Blair had looked away from Jim as he asked that, and Jim realized that he was embarrassed. 

"No one's saying anything, Chief. The only person who knows what happened to you is Simon. As far as everyone else is concerned, I just told anyone who asked that you'd needed some time off. True enough, and it's not anyone else's business." 

"Someone will find out." 

"And if they do?" 

Blair shrugged, casually, as if he didn't care; but Jim knew he did. He set his fork down, and sat back in his chair. "Chief--it's nothing to be ashamed of. *You* didn't do anything wrong--the blame here rests squarely on Caldwell's shoulders." 

Blair stirred his food around with his fork. Jim wished he'd eat--he was getting so thin his clothes bagged on him. "How do you know I didn't do anything? What if I said or did something that made him think I wanted it?" His voice was so soft that Jim could hardly hear it without engaging his sentinel sense. 

"Blair--people don't do things that encourage rape. Look at me, Blair...Please?" Jim waited until Blair looked back up at him. "You didn't do anything wrong, Chief. Please believe me on this one. Please." Jim could hear the fervent pleading in his voice, and hoped it was getting through. He stretched his hand across the table, and Blair picked it up. He squeezed gently, and felt a tremor run through Blair's system; so fine that only his extra senses detected it. Blair hung on though...and didn't release the hand. Jim smiled slightly. They'd just taken a big step forward.   
  


* * *

  


"More coffee?" 

"Oh, yeah...Thanks." Jim glanced at his watch. 1:45pm. How long would Blair need to 'think some stuff through'? Could he hang out in the coffee shop for that long? 

"Need anything else, hon?" 

"No, I'm fine. Thanks." Jim picked up a spoon and began stirring his coffee, just to give his hands something to do. The waitress smiled and walked away, a suggestive swing to her hips; but Jim's thoughts were already refocused on the next week.   
  


* * *

  


Anger. That would be the defining emotion for the next several weeks. And its focus bounced around like a wild animal suddenly caged. Anger at himself; anger at Jim; anger at the world in general...and anger at Caldwell. Jim returned home one night from a late-night call to find Blair sitting on the couch, yelling at the television. He noticed, surprised, that the news channel had a special report on one who'd made FBI's ten most wanted: Tristan Caldwell. The news reporter was saying that Caldwell had been killed in a prison riot earlier in the day...Jim tuned out the TV and tuned in to what Blair was saying... 

"...son-of-a-bitch! It's not enough that he goes and fucking screws up my life, he's got to fucking go and get himself killed...and doesn't even pay back society! FUCK!" Jim's mouth gaped open--he'd never heard much in the way of cuss words come from Blair; an occasional expletive spoken in moments of extreme trial...but regular run-of-the-mill cussing? No. "Why? Why, Jim! Why'd the no-good-rat-fucking-son-of-a-bitch die like that? Too easy..." And the anger evaporated as quickly as it had come, leaving Blair gasping on the couch, tears in his eyes. "God, Jim...it hurts. It hurts to know that he never got what was coming to him..." 

"Actually, Chief...it sounds like he did. Dying in a prison riot probably wasn't how Caldwell viewed the end of his life." Jim settled himself on the couch next to Blair and offered his hand for support. Blair entwined their fingers, and Jim could feel the tremors shaking his body through them. He squeezed Blair's hand and nearly stopped breathing when Blair returned the squeeze. "C'mere, Chief." Jim gestured toward himself. 

Blair's eyes got huge. "What?" 

"C'mere. Remember the night you had the major panic attack?" Blair nodded. "I'd like to...do whatever that was. I wasn't holding you, but we were...touching." Jim frowned slightly as Blair's face turned pale. "Only if you want to, Chief. Nothing you don't want to do." 

Blair managed a tremulous smile. "I love you, Jim. God, I love you..." He leaned his head toward Jim, until their foreheads met. Jim stayed perfectly still, and could feel Blair's warm breath on his face and lips. He closed his eyes and inhaled that breath, reveling in the scent--the scent of Blair; basking in the sensation of actually being able to touch Blair, to offer his support and love. 

"I love you too, Chief." 

"Why's this so *hard*, man? I want to..." Blair closed his eyes as a shudder tore through his body. 

"Chief?" Jim pulled back from him. "You okay?" 

"I think so." 

"What were you saying? You want to--what?" 

"I want to kiss you. So bad...but I'm afraid..." 

"Then we wait until you're not afraid." 

"What if that never happens? What if I'm always afraid? I don't want to be afraid anymore, Jim. This is taking so long...why's it taking so long?" 

"One day at a time, Blair. That's all we can do. One day at a time. You'll heal--you're already stronger than you were before." 

"You're just saying that, Jim." The sullen angry tone was coming back into Blair's voice, and Jim had to resist sighing. This was a test for his patience. Blair had more personalities these days than Sybil'd had. 

"No, I'm not. Two weeks ago you couldn't even be here alone. A week ago you couldn't touch me without shaking like a leaf in a wind storm. You're getting there, Chief. It just takes time--and we have as much as you need." 

Blair watched him for a long time, those smokey blue eyes boring into his; until Jim had the idea that Blair was trying to see into his soul. Whatever he was looking for he must have found, because a small smile broke across those lips that hadn't smiled in far too long; and then Blair sighed, and leaned his head down so that it rested lightly on Jim's shoulder. 

Jim sat frozen to the spot, unwilling to move lest he startle Blair. Blair had voluntarily made contact with him! Had *initiated* the contact! He felt like jumping up and down and screaming with joy--his Blair was getting better! He finally remembered to breathe then, when his brain kicked back in. He glanced over to Blair who was sitting quietly next to him; a small smile still on his face. 

They sat like that, Blair's head on Jim's shoulder, fingers still entwined; for the next hour.   
  


* * *

  


Which brought them up to the present. Jim shook his head as got up from the table. He tossed some coins down on the table for a tip and headed for the cash register. The waitress was also cashiering, and she had the most predatory smile he'd ever seen, on her face as she watched him approach. 

"Need anything else, hon?" She practically purred at him. Jim repressed a shudder and managed a civil No, Thanks answer. Time to go home. Hopefully, Blair would be done doing whatever it was he had to do. It was, after all, nearly 3:00pm...   
  
  
Chapter 4 - Blair's Journal   


Dr. Peli says I should keep a journal of my feelings. That it's a long journey I'm embarking on, and I might want a roadmap; or some shit like that. I think it's a dumb idea, but I promised I'd cooperate. This one's going to cover the first couple of months, to be added to as necessary. Here goes.   
  


Journal Entry #1 - 

I wish I was dead. I wish Caldwell was dead. I wish Jim didn't love me. I can't ever love him now and get it right.   
  


Journal Entry #2 - 

I wish I was dead. I hate the pain that fills me every day. I hate being afraid of noises, and smells. I can't eat--food makes me sick. My head hurts. My heart hurts. Why me?   
  


Journal Entry #3 - 

I panicked today. Tonight. Whatever. Jim left while I was asleep - why'd he do that - and I had a nightmare--Caldwell was coming to get me...he was here, and Jim wasn't. I hated Jim for that. Hated him for making me want him and need him so bad. I don't even have a life anymore...I hate life right now.   
  


Journal Entry #4 - 

Jim touched me last night and it was okay. We put our foreheads together, and... He cried with me...I could feel the tears. I love him so much...   
  


Journal Entry #5 - 

I can't stand to have Jim look at me anymore--it's too embarrassing. He knows too much about what happened. How can he stand to live in the same house with me? What will happen to me if he leaves? Or decides I need to leave? How can he still say he loves me?   
  


Journal Entry #6 - 

I went outside today by myself--and was okay. I stood on the patio and watched the sunset. I've missed that.   
  


Journal Entry #7 - 

It's been a little over a week. Dr. Peli says I'm making progress. I don't see it.   
  


Journal Entry #8 - 

Maybe this journal thing isn't so bad...although I still don't like doing it. It hurts to have to write this stuff down-- bad enough to have to live through it without having to analyze it... 

I'm tired. I wish I could sleep...all night. I don't have the nightmares every night anymore; but never knowing when they'll come is keeping me from sleeping well. Jim's gone back up to his own bed, and he seems so far away...further than when he was down here on the couch. I could ask him to stay down here, but that seems so stupid, so weak.   
  


Journal Entry #9 - 

I hate life. I hate me. If I have to see Caldwell's face one more time when I close my eyes I might just lose it.   
  


Journal Entry #10 - 

Everyone says it's not my fault. I suppose deep down I know it too. But it's so hard to remember that--so hard. I get so angry these days--at everyone, everything. I get angry at Jim, and then feel guilty about it on top of everything else. He's been so good, so patient...and I'm nattering on like an idiot. There are days I just want to scream in his face to get the hell out of mine...then there are days I want to beg him never to go away again--don't go to work, or the deli, or anywhere. No where that he has to leave me. I hate feeling so dependent. I hate it.   
  


Journal Entry #11 - 

Naomi called today. I told her what happened. She cried on the phone--I could hear it. I hate that I'm causing so much pain to the people I love. How do I stop this?   
  


Journal Entry #12 - 

My bruises are all gone now...no more physical signs that anything happened to me. I wish the non-physical signs would go away too. Jim looks me like he's afraid I'm going to break. Maybe I am.   
  


Journal Entry #13 - 

I almost wish I was back in school right now--it would give me something to do. Sitting around here is starting to make me feel worse.   
  


Journal Entry #14 - 

I'm going to start going back to work with Jim in a day or so. I hope I can do this. Even part time. I need to *do* something, before I lose what's left of my mind.   
  


Journal Entry #15 - 

It's been several weeks now, and it's getting easier to do this, but I'm never going to like it. I'm counting the days until I can stop... 

I feel so out of control--I react to everything, no matter how mundane it is. It's my fault if the toast doesn't turn out; or the hot water is gone, or whatever. I'm so sick of this--I'd like to go punch the shit out of someone--or something.   
  


Journal Entry #16 - 

How long is this going to last? Dr. Peli and Jim both keep insisting I give it time...it hasn't even been quite a month yet. Maybe, but they're not the ones who feel torn up inside... Dirty. Used. I wish I could just start life over again--maybe I wouldn't even look for Sentinels this time...if I hadn't, I'd never had met Jim...and wouldn't have had this happen. No, that's not fair. It's not Jim's fault this happened. Or is it?   
  


Journal Entry #17 - 

Jim caught me unaware coming out of the shower tonight. How embarrassing. Worse, I could see his reaction to me--to my body. How can he want me? Doesn't he see how awful I am?   
  


Journal Entry #18 - 

I went for a short walk tonight--the moon was out, and everything looked clear and perfect. It's almost July. When will I get to enjoy my summer?   
  


Journal Entry #19 - 

I'm having nightmares less and less now. Maybe I'm finally starting to get better?   
  


Journal Entry #20 - 

I took Jim's hand tonight--and held it. We touched foreheads again, and I put my head on his shoulder. Caldwell is dead. I love Jim. Life is...?   
  


Journal Entry #21 - 

I laughed today. It felt good. I haven't really laughed since before the...before it happened.   
  


Journal Entry #22 - 

One month down...how many more to go? How long until I feel normal again? Will I *ever* feel normal again? Have normal thoughts and feelings...? 

I heard Jim this morning--masturbating. I woke up early, and went out to the couch...he didn't hear me. Is it me he's thinking about?   
  


Journal Entry #23 - 

I wish I could let Jim touch me--I feel myself pull away from anytime he gets too close. Which isn't often--he's learned. It makes me so...It pisses me off. How long's it going to take to get over this? So Caldwell fucked me. Worse things have happened to people--why can't I let go of this?   
  


Journal Entry #24 - 

I asked Jim why he never gets mad at me--I yell at him; why doesn't he yell back? He said he goes to the gym and works out. He also said he has enough people at the station he can yell at; why take it out on me? I laughed at that.   
  


Journal Entry #25 - 

I want to kiss Jim. I want it so bad I can't stand it. But the thought of ever kissing anyone again tears me up inside. I can't stand the thought of...of what that leads to. Oh, God...please make all this stop.   
  


Journal Entry #26 - 

I went to my office today--it was good to be back on campus. I'm going to teach again this fall. Maybe.   
  


Journal Entry #27 - 

Jim's not doing counseling by himself anymore. He's going to keep going with me though, as long as I want him there. I told him I want him with me for as long as I can have him. He told me I could have him forever.   
  


Journal Entry #28 - 

Naomi called again today. !!! Two calls from mom in a month. She offered to come out, I told her not to. I couldn't deal with her, too. I love her; but there's enough for me to have to deal with right now.   
  


Journal Entry #29 - 

Jim called my name this morning--he was masturbating again. He didn't call *to* me, just called my name out. I don't think he realizes how early I wake up now. I had a hard time looking at him when he came downstairs. I wish I could...   
  


Journal Entry #30 - 

I'm going to kiss Jim today. I am.   
  
  
Chapter 5a - Obstacles (The next steps)   


Jim opened the door to the loft and entered the stillness. All those sounds outside... "Chief? You here?" 

"In here, Jim." Jim followed Blair's voice and found him staring into the mirror in the bathroom. 

"What're you doing?" 

"Just checking things out. My hair's starting to grow out some." 

Jim looked over the cropped hair. Yeah, he could see where it'd begun to grow again. "Looks good, Chief." *Like you.* Jim felt his gut tighten up. "Why?" 

"Beg pardon?" 

"Why are you checking things out?" 

"Oh...just curious. Plus, my new assignment, for the journals. I'm supposed to take some time everyday to look at myself...write down what I feel when I do that, that sort of thing." Blair turned away from the mirror, and gazed quizzically at Jim. "What are you doing home so early?" 

"I never did go back to work, actually. Had some thinking to do myself. I went down and sat around the Harbor-side Coffee House, but that got old. Plus the waitress was trying to come on to me..." He trailed off as he realized what he'd said, but to his relief Blair only laughed. 

"You got charm, Jim. Women from miles around can sense it." 

Jim smiled. "Let's get out of the bathroom, hmm? Unless you're not done--" He gestured toward the mirror. 

"No, I'm finished." Blair motioned for Jim to proceed him, and they went into the living room. Jim sat down on the couch, and Blair continued into the kitchen. "Want anything?" 

"No, thanks." Jim closed his eyes and listened to the sounds from the kitchen--clinks, rattles...water running. "Blair? What are you doing?" 

"Making tea. Want some?" 

"No--I was just wondering." Jim hesitated a moment, reluctant to say anything--Blair was in such a good mood--which was such a change from moods lately--he wasn't sure he wanted to be responsible for ruining it. "Chief?" 

"Yeah, Jim." 

"About today--in the session." 

"Uh-huh?" 

"Why'd you get so mad about--" Damn, this was hard! 

"About what?" 

"Exactly." 

"Huh?" 

"What were you so mad about? We're not in any rush here-- I'm content to wait until you're ready to move to the next level in this relationship. Am I putting some kind of pressure on you?" 

Blair's face appeared in the doorway. "No. I'm just sick and tired of being scared of any kind of contact other than holding your hand. I want to hold you...and hug you...and kiss you..." 

"I want it too--but not until you're ready for it." 

"I want to be ready for it, now! How long's it gonna take, man? I've been dancing around you for months now. Aren't you tired of waiting?" 

"No." 

The quiet simplicity of the answer brought Blair up short, and he gaped in surprise at Jim. "What do you mean, 'No'?" 

Jim smiled slightly in amusement. "Which part didn't you understand, Sandburg? No, I'm not tired of waiting. You're worth waiting for. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. Quit trying." 

There was stunned silence, then the sound of the water kettle boiling. Blair ducked back into the kitchen, and Jim leaned back against the couch cushions, eyes closed wearily. He *was* tired of waiting; but he'd continue to wait until the end of time, if necessary. 

The couch shifted next to him, and he opened his eyes to see Blair settling in next to him. They regarded each other for a moment, then Blair reached his hand out to grasp Jim's. He twined their fingers together, and Jim felt his body relaxing. He loved to sit here like this, Blair next to him, hands clasped together. He closed his eyes again, concentrating on the scents in the air--what was Blair drinking? Peppermint...thyme...something else he couldn't identify. Another scent then; this one sharper...more pungent. Almost like fear--he opened his eyes to see Blair watching him closely; he could hear his Guide's heart thundering in his chest, could hear the increased respirations--could see the sweat gathering on his brow. "You okay, Chief?" 

"Yeah..." Blair leaned forward and placed his cup on the table. "Fine." He settled back onto the couch, and Jim could feel the pulse hammering through Blair's veins. Whatever it was, Blair would either calm down in a moment, or tell him. He knew better than anyone what Jim's senses were capable of. To his surprise, Blair leaned slightly towards him then, increasing the pressure on the hand he held. 

"Jim..." He almost sighed the word, then brushed his lips across Jim's, and pulled back quickly. 

"Blair..." Jim sat there, feeling an idiotic grin spreading across his face. Oh, God...Blair had just kissed him!   
  


They sat there on the couch, neither one saying a word; Blair shaking like he had chills. Jim couldn't believe Blair had taken such a huge leap forward; Blair couldn't believe Jim hadn't pulled away in disgust. He examined Jim closely. The expression in his eyes--combined with the dopey grin that hadn't gone away yet--were Blair's best clues that Jim really *did* want to kiss him. He wished it were easier--he'd spent most of the hour with Dr. Peli talking about how to go about doing something that took about ten seconds to complete. And it wasn't even a real kiss...   
  


"Chief? Whatcha thinking about?" 

"You. Me." 

"Ah. And what about us?" 

"Is there an 'us'?" 

"Chief--there's always been a us. The dynamic is still there--it's just changing form. Just because we were *just* friends before didn't mean we weren't an 'us'." 

Blair stared at him in disbelief for a minute, then snorted with something suspiciously close to laughter. "Man, you really have been with me too long. That sounds so like something I'd spit out..." 

"Consider it a good influence, Chief. Now, what were you thinking about?" 

"Kissing you." 

"You just did." The dopey grin was back. 

"No, I mean really *kissing* you." The shaking was back, too. 

"Blair...you don't have anything to prove--" 

Blair pulled away from Jim and jumped to his feet. "Yes I do! I have to prove it to myself! I want a normal life again! I want to be able to think...feel...love...all without hurting because of something some asshole did to me. Especially since that asshole's dead now!" 

"Blair--" Jim tried to interrupt the tirade, but Blair wouldn't let him. 

"NO! *Listen* to me, dammit! I'm tired of this. I want to kiss you so bad, Jim. I want to hold you; touch you; feel you...I want to make love to you...and I'm so afraid I'm never going to be able to..." Blair turned and ran into his room, slamming the door behind him.   
  


Jim sighed as he settled back onto the couch, ears prickling with the sound of choking sobs. He wasn't going to go after him. The events of the last couple of months had taught him that his presence was unwelcome until Blair was ready to talk. What had happened, though? Blair'd kissed him. Then what? He shook his head, not sure he even followed all aspects of the conversation they'd just had.   
  


He sat there for over an hour, just staring out the window. The sobs had tapered off, then quit all together; still Blair hadn't emerged from his room. He listened closely and could hear the slow, deep sounds of sleeping respirations. Maybe a nap wasn't such a bad idea. Jim shifted himself down on the couch, and shoved one of the small pillows under his head. After scooting around for a minute he finally found a comfortable position, and closed his eyes...drifting off in minutes.   
  


He woke sometime later to the feel of fingers on his face...tracing the outline of his lips and cheeks, moving slowly, learning the planes and angles. Blair was kneeling on the floor next to the couch, and startled a bit when he opened his eyes, but left his fingers where they were. 

"You're so beautiful." The fingers skimmed past his lips again, moving upward toward his brow ridges. 

"Thanks." What was he supposed to say to that? "Blair? Can I...I want to...touch you. Your hair. Can I?" 

Blair nodded, almost shyly. "I think so." He held himself still, hardly breathing, while Jim brought a hand up, gently twining the short curls through his fingers. After a moment he started breathing again, and although Jim could tell his heartrate had increased it didn't sound unduly stressed. 

Jim closed his eyes at the sensation of Blair's hair on his skin. It was soft...it felt like raw silk moving over his fingertips. He breathed in, noting the scent--which was one that combined to make up "Blair"--it smelled faintly like aloe and evergreen. There was another scent, a little more elusive...but strong in its own right. It was... 

Lips on his. Warm lips, pressing down on his. The sound of an increasing heartbeat. A tongue slipping past his lips, to be removed just as it touched his own. Then the warmth was gone, and Jim's eyes were flying open to look at Blair--who was staring down at him, an unfathomable expression in his eyes. Pheromones. That's what he'd been smelling. Jim let go of the curls he'd been playing with, and slowly brought his hand around to cup Blair's cheek; telling him with his eyes that all he had to do was say no. To his surprise Blair leaned into his hand. Jim could feel Blair shaking--hell, *he* was shaking--but he didn't pull away. Instead, he pulled Jim's head down towards him, and tucked it into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. Blair held Jim there, rocking slowly back and forth, until he stopped his shaking. Then he just held him, savoring the ability to do so after so long. God, he'd loved this man for so long...and to finally be able to express it in someway other than verbal... He hugged Jim tighter to him, unaware of the tears slipping down his cheeks.   
  
  


Summer was moving past them quickly; but it was okay with Blair now. He was making real progress--some days he felt almost like his old self again. Giving himself permission to touch Jim had helped immensely. All he'd needed to do was get past the fear...and the support was there.   
  


He'd resumed his place at Jim's side full-time now--or as full-time as it had ever been. Jim had been right--no one remarked about his absence, or even the fact that he appeared skittish when first he reappeared. Only one person had asked about his health--Elsie, a file clerk whom he'd had in one of his classes a couple of semesters back. And even that was just a casual question--he didn't detect any particular prying in it.   
  


Things had been fairly quiet in Cascade for the last couple of months, something that Jim was going to be eternally grateful for. Looking back now, he knew he never would have been able to deal with a heavy work load as well as try to be there for Blair. And since they had to eat, and needed a place to stay...well, he was just grateful he hadn't had to choose which one he'd have dealt with. Simon was his friend, but that didn't mean preferential treatment. Blair was settling back into routine, and appeared a lot more relaxed and at ease with things again. They had not progressed beyond cuddling, and occasional kisses; but Jim wasn't pushing. He had told Blair that night, after Blair first kissed him; he was letting him set the pace. The control was his--how fast or slow they went. 

"I've gone for a year or more at a time without sex, Chief. A few months...six months...whatever, isn't going to kill me. I'm not some 16 year old kid who can't keep his pants zipped. And if the tension gets too much--I know how to relieve it." 

Blared had stared at him after this frank commentary. "I still feel like a tease..." 

"Well, don't. Any contact I have with you is heaven. I don't care if you kiss me--or just hold my hand. When you're ready for more, we'll do more. Until then, Don't. Worry. About. It. Got it?" 

Blair had shaken his head, not quite able to believe what Jim was telling him, but unwilling to disbelieve. "Sure, man."   
  


That familiar heartbeat was now within his range of hearing, heading toward him. His body tightened up with the slightly uncomfortable sensation that he'd grown used to, and he willed it to relax. This was definitely not the time or the place. It wasn't that he cared so much what other people thought--who he was involved with was his own business, not theirs--but he didn't feel a need to flaunt his private life. And he *hated* people who gossiped; hating providing grist for the mill. The elevator pinged open, and the object of his attentions bounced off, proving to him just how attuned his body was toward Blair. 

"Hey, Jim." 

"Morning, Chief. Car running okay?" Jim took a drink of his now-cold coffee, and watched his partner settle down in the chair next to his. The scent that made up Blair surrounded him, and he felt dizzy for a moment. 

"Yeah--finally. Didn't want to turn over this morning." Blair made a dismissive gesture. His car was an antique that would probably just up and die one day. "What do we have today?" 

"Nothing yet. Simon said he'd have something for us in a little while--paperwork is still being processed on something." Jim regarded Blair--he looked...happy...this morning. That was something different. 

"You doin' okay, Chief?" 

"I'm fine, Jim. I haven't felt this good in a long time." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah--I think I'm finally over it all. Put it behind me." 

"Really." Jim felt his heart thud to a stop. Dr. Peli had cautioned him this might happen. It could be for real, but probably wasn't. Not denial, exactly; but a false feeling of readjustment, followed by a more intense period of *actual* readjustment. Jim sighed. He hoped this was the real thing; but given how skittish Blair still was around him he doubted it. 

"Yep. Never felt better. Might even cancel the appointment this week." 

"Don't do that Chief. Not yet, okay?" 

"Mmm." 

"Chief--" He didn't get to finish his comment when he was interrupted by Simon. 

"Ellison, Sandburg--my office!" 

They exchanged looks, and hurried in to see the Captain.   
  
  
Chapter 5b - Obstacles (con't)   


"What've you got for us, Sir." Simon was rifling through a file on his desk, and didn't look up when they entered the room. 

"Sit down, gentlemen. Nasty one. Real nasty one. Here." Simon handed them each a file which contained several close-up shots of a murder victim; a victim who appeared to have been at least physically assaulted, before death. "Same M.O. -- He picks his victims up in gay bars around town, then assaults them, then kills them. Every body is tied ritually like that--and then drained of blood." Simon looked up from his desk to see Jim staring at Blair, who'd gone dead white. 

"I'm okay," the younger man whispered. "Go on." 

"I'm sorry, Sandburg." 

"Blair--you don't have to do this one with me." 

"Yes, I do. Go, on, Captain."   
  


Blair could feel Jim's eyes on him during the briefing. He tried to make a few suggestions, but found his brain unable to think coherently. God, this was just like Caldwell. This guy was doing things to these poor guys...just like he'd had done to him. *You're still alive,* flashed his brain. *For how long?* replied his alter-ego. *As long as I can manage.* *You'd be surprised how quickly that'll go...*   
  
  


They left to talk to witnesses, and the victims' families. Jim was silent as he pulled the truck out of the station parking garage. There was no way he could let Blair remain on this case. He tried to tell himself that it was Blair he was protecting, but deep down he knew it was himself, too. He didn't want any more readjustment periods. Especially not if they were flashbacks caused by the job. It was a selfish attitude, he knew; but Jesus God--it'd been a long couple of months lately.   
  


Fortunately for him, it appeared that whatever Deity watched over his--and Blair's--lives, was in a merciful mood that day. Jim and Blair had gotten no further than on the case than driving toward the first victim's home when Simon called them and said that likely they had their suspect in custody; the man wasn't quite as smart as he thought he was, and had tried to pick up the younger brother of one of the cops at the station. They headed back to the station. 

"You weren't going to let me work with you on this, were you?" Blair's tone had been conversational, but Jim could detect a hint of steel beneath the words. He chose his own words, and modulated his voice, carefully. 

"I was going to wait and see what happened--" 

"Cut the crap, man. We both know you weren't going to let me go with you. You think I didn't hear what you told Simon? It doesn't take me that long to find stuff on your desk, man. You're *way* too organized." 

"Blair, I'm sorry--" 

"Just shut up, okay? I thought I could trust you--" 

Jim slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of road. "Listen, Sandburg. This has *nothing* to do with trust!" 

"Yes it does! You don't trust me to tell you if I can't handle it." 

"Maybe because you haven't earned that trust! You jump in, feet first, without considering consequences. You really expect me to believe you'd be *comfortable* talking to people who'd had their sons, brothers, whatever--*raped* and *murdered* by some lying bastard who's a clone for what Caldwell was?" Jim tried to control his breathing. Oh, shit--he'd lost it. He'd been afraid for so long that it would happen at some point. He breathed through his nose, trying to calm down; and was surprised to see that Blair was doing the same. He was out of line. Blair didn't deserve to be yelled at, just for being Blair. "Blair--I--" 

"That was a little uncalled for, Jim." 

"I know. I just--Oh, Christ. I worry about you, Blair. You go off half-cocked, and never stop to consider what the repercussions might be...I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you." 

"Something like what?" 

"I don't know. Another emotional shock--I don't know if either of us could take another one, right now. You should have seen your face, Chief, when Simon gave us those file. You were dead white. Not pale, *white*." Jim took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. "Just give this some time, Chief. You're better, but you're not totally healed yet." 

"How do you know?" 

"Because you still flinch when I touch you. Because *I* can't initiate contact with you...because I can still hear you crying sometimes after you have a nightmare--even if you don't wake me up; I wake up." He considered his words, looked at Blair's face. He was very pale, eyes wide in shock...but calm. "I'm sorry, Chief." 

"For what?" 

"What?" 

"What are you sorry for?" 

"Oh, shit. For yelling, for--" 

"For saying the truth?" 

There was silence while they watched each other. Jim nodded. "Yes." 

Blair shook his head. "Jim--I'm okay about this, man. Maybe I wouldn't have been, I don't know. You were, like, way out of line to assume you know what's best for me...but I know what motivated it. I love you too, man. I just wish you'd trust me a little more; give me that chance. I might surprise you one of these days, and actually listen to you." 

Jim laughed shakily. "You? In this lifetime? As for surprising me--you already have, Chief." He reached out to squeeze Blair's hand with his, and felt his heart jump when Blair returned the caress, and added a quick kiss to the palm before releasing his hand. 

"Let's get back to the station, Jim. Maybe they have a nice safe bank robbery waiting for us." 

Jim laughed as he put the truck in gear, and pulled back onto the road.   
  
  


Blair squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to block the images that were filling his mind. He hadn't been asleep very long when the nightmare began; and now he couldn't even get it out of his mind while wide awake. *Must be a leftover courtesy of today.* Jim's distrust in his ability to know where to draw the line was occasionally warranted. Blair tended to act first, think later. Then pay the price. Like now. He got out of bed, and stood by the window, peering outside. He thought about today--that was the first really big case he'd worked on--even if it hadn't lasted long. Mostly Jim's work was a little less spectacular-- car-jackings, kidnappings...bank robbery. Less often rapes, and murder cases. Figure the odds of the rapist/murderer being one who preferred men... He shook his head. He was never going to get back to sleep at this rate. He didn't want to go back to his bed, either. Not right now. Couch? He couldn't sleep on it like Jim could. It was too soft. Maybe Jim would let him stay with him for a while. They could cuddle. Holding Jim was like a dream for him, even after the last month of doing so. Even though they spent most evenings sitting on the couch holding on to each other, it never seemed like enough. He wanted so much more...he was just hesitant about taking those last steps. He turned from the window and walked out of his room, coming to rest at the foot of the steps. 

"Hey--Jim? Are you awake?" 

There was a muffled noise, then Jim's voice. "Yeah, Chief. You okay?" 

"I--had a nightmare." 

"You want me to come down?" 

"Actually, I was wondering if I could...come up." 

There was a pause, then Jim said, "Sure. Come on." 

Blair climbed the stairs, and found Jim curled onto his side, looking very wide awake for a man who'd been in bed for a while. He waved Blair over, and said, "Climb on in." 

"Thanks, man." Blair walked around the bed, and climbed in. He snuggled down under the comforter, moving instinctively toward the heat of Jim's body. He spooned up behind him, and casually draped an arm across Jim's side, and wondered about the tenseness he felt in the other man. "Jim? What is it?" 

"I was just...ah...oh, Shit." Jim finished with the expletive as Blair moved his hand and bumped into his erection. 

Blair was silent for a minute. "I can leave." 

"No, it's okay. I told you, we do this on your terms. I was just..." 

"You were jerking off when I hollered up, weren't you." 

"Yes." 

"You don't have to stop on my account, man." Jim rolled on to his back and gave Blair a shocked look. The younger man had sounded almost amused. "Or I could...finish it for you." There was no amusement in that statement. Only seriousness, sincerity. 

"Blair..." 

"I mean it. I could do that for you. If you want me to." 

"Only if *you* want to. I can live with it--it'll go away." 

"I want to, Jim. Really." Blair reached for him. 

"Oh, God..." Jim couldn't help the groan that fell from his lips as Blair wrapped his hand around his erection. "Jesus, Chief." He whispered the words, and arched into Blair's hand, hips already moving. Blair leaned in to him, and kissed him; softly at first, then harder. He stroked Jim, moving his hand increasingly faster until Jim stiffened under him, thrust hard against his hand, and came with a cry on his lips. Blair. Jim was calling *his* name as he came... 

"Better?" Blair whispered against Jim's lips. 

"Yes... Oh, God, Babe...I love you..." 

"I love you too, Jim." He snuggled into Jim's side and fell asleep. 

Jim lay awake for a long time, wondering at the implications of this.   
  


The sun was high in the sky when Blair woke the next morning, momentarily disoriented by not being in his own bed. Jim's bed. The nightmare from last night came back; along with the rest of it. Jim wasn't next to him, but since he could hear the shower, he knew where he was. Memories of last night flooded through him. He'd masturbated Jim. Stroked him, held him, kissed him. Made him come. Blair shivered as unaccustomed feelings and sensations poured through his body. He was getting hard, he thought with a feeling of wonder. That hadn't happened in a long time. Last night had seemed right, though. He let his hand drift downward, feeling the pleasurable tightening of stomach muscles as he got closer and closer to his stiffening penis. He stroked himself gently; slowly...enjoying the sensations that rippled outward and spread through his body. He didn't even realize when he began thrusting against his hand--he was too caught up in the feelings going along with it. With a gasp of surprise he came into his own hand, and lay there panting; conflicting emotions of all sorts running through him.   
  


Jim had been just finishing up his shower when he heard Blair's heartrate increase, as well as his breathing. He shut the water off, and reached for a towel, ready to go to him if he were having a nightmare. He was glad it was Saturday, and he could let Blair sleep in--he'd looked so peaceful - finally - this morning. Blair's vitals increased, and Jim drew up short as he realized he heard another sound he hadn't heard from Blair in a long time--flesh rubbing against flesh. He heard the grunt of surprise, and suddenly his senses were filled with the erotic scent of Blair's essence--his seed. Jim felt his own body tightening in response, and looked down, half in amusement, half in disgust. *No*, he thought. *You had an incredible treat last night. You'll just have to wait a while.* He concentrated on thinking about the paperwork he had to do at work, and finally felt his erection going down.   
  


By the time he'd finished in the bathroom Blair had come downstairs and had made coffee. He was sitting at the table, coffee cup in his hand, staring down at the paper. He had a strange look on his face that Jim couldn't begin to define; but he didn't seem troubled in any way. More...thoughtful. Turned inward.   
  


Blair looked up when he heard Jim come out of the bathroom, and felt something catch in his throat. Clad in nothing but a pair of worn jeans, Jim was beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. 

"News says the guy they caught yesterday confessed to the killings." 

"That's good." Jim headed for the kitchen. "You hungry, Chief?" 

"No." 

"Okay. What do you want to do today?" 

"Do we have to do anything?" 

"No--not if you don't want to." 

"No...I don't feel very good. My head hurts." 

"You're not coming down with something, are you?" 

"I don't think so. Maybe just sinuses." 

"Well, whatever. I've got some stuff around here I need to do." 

"You don't have to hang around here because of me, man. Go, do whatever you need to." 

Jim re-appeared from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and some cereal. "I'm not hanging around because of you, Chief. I really do have some stuff to do. Laundry, for a start." 

"So you don't want to be here with me."   
  


Jim set his cup down and looked at Blair, wondering when he'd fallen down Alice's hole. "What are you talking about, Sandburg? It's Saturday. Sometimes we run errands on Saturday; sometimes we do stuff around the house--sometimes I catch up on paperwork. What's the problem here? I only wondered if there was anything you needed to do, or wanted to do." 

Blair gave him a sullen look...which set off alarms in Jim's head. "Don't worry about me, *Ellison*. I'll take care of it myself." 

"Blair...talk to me. What's wrong?" Jim got up from his chair and moved over next to Blair. He brought his hands up to cup Blair's face, but a swift block from the younger man stopped him. 

"Don't touch me." 

"What's wrong? Please, tell me. Let me help. Did I do something? Is it last night? I knew I shouldn't have let you--" 

"You didn't *let* me do anything, Jim. I offered; I wanted to. This isn't about you--it's about me." 

"What about you?" 

"I'm no good..." 

"What?" Jim was starting to feel way in over his head. 

"I shouldn't use you like that--for my own pleasure. I shouldn't--" Blair began to gag, and Jim pulled out of his way as Blair vaulted off the chair for the bathroom. Shit. 

Jim followed him, not sure if he was welcome, but feeling like he needed to be there. "Blair?" 

Retching noises greeted him. Jim took a step into the bathroom, then moved behind Blair. He pulled Blair's hair back from his face; held it with one hand, and gently stroked the hot forehead with the other. After several long minutes Blair pushed himself back, and when Jim let go he sat down on the tile floor. Jim wet a washcloth and handed it to Blair, then ran the tap and filled a glass of water for him. Blair rinsed out his mouth, then stood up. Jim gestured toward the living room. "You okay?" At Blair's nod he continued, "I'll be right out there, if you need me. Come on out when you're done." He left the room and began pacing the living room, waiting. A good ten minutes passed before the toilet flushed, and a very bedraggled looking Blair appeared. Jim raised his eyebrow, but didn't say anything. 

"I'm okay, man. Shit, I thought I was all *over* all of this. I felt so good yesterday...and last night." He shook his head, and wandered over to the couch. 

Jim sat down cautiously, not next to him, but at the opposite end. Whatever had brought this on had more to do with Blair than with him; but he didn't want the other man to feel trapped. "Want to tell me what happened?" 

"Do I have a choice?" 

"You always have a choice, Chief. But I think you need to talk." 

Blair laughed, a short, harsh sound. "You've been hanging around the shrink too long." He sighed, and stared down at his hands, which were twisting in his lap. "Last night was so great, man. I know all I did was...you know. But I liked making you feel good. Knowing that it was me doing that..." He stopped, gathering his thoughts. "But then this morning, I was thinking about it--about you--and I got hard. And I liked that feeling. I haven't done that--or felt that way in a while. Like my body was finally rediscovering itself, you know? But I was doing it, thinking of you. I was using thoughts of you to bring myself off--I'm no better than Caldwell was..." 

"Oh, God, Blair. There's *nothing* wrong with that! That's not using someone. That's remembering something beautiful, and reliving it. Almost a tribute. I know what you did--I could smell you. And I got hard again, just from that." 

"You did?" 

"Yes." 

"But you didn't do anything--did you?" 

Jim shook his head. "I didn't want to then--I just enjoyed the moment. I don't want to move too fast for you." 

"Well, see. You're a better person. I couldn't stop--I had to keep going." 

"Blair... Did it feel good, touching yourself?" 

"Yes." 

"Did you hurt anyone? Me, you, anyone else?" 

"No." 

"So what's so wrong? I'm flattered that you thought about me." 

"I don't know. It just doesn't seem right." 

"You used to masturbate before." 

"Yeah." 

"What'd you do then?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"What'd you think of, before. When you stroked yourself, who or what were you thinking about." 

"...you, usually." 

"So what's so different now?" 

"I don't *know*! It just seemed wrong. Caldwell talked about--" Blair broke off, realizing he'd said the one thing he'd never meant to tell Jim. 

Jim zeroed in on the panicked look on Blair's face, and knew they'd hit upon something. "Caldwell talked about *what*, Chief?" 

"You." 

"Me? In what way?" 

"Just...about you. While he was...j-jerking me o-off. He made me think about you...He k-knew that I l-l-love you..." Blair closed his eyes as the tears cascaded down his cheeks. Jim had to clench his fists again, truly glad for the first time that there was no chance that Caldwell could ever come into their lives again. "Jim?" 

"Yeah, Chief?" 

"Would you...would you hold me? I n-need to f-feel you..." Blair was hugging his arms tightly around himself, rocking back and forth. Jim scooted across the couch and wrapped Blair into his embrace, following the rocking motion. He stroked the curly hair that had nearly grown out, and murmured soothing noises under his breath. Blair buried his face in Jim's chest, and cried for what seemed like forever. When the storm had passed he snuggled further into the embrace and relaxed, falling asleep. Jim shifted them so that he was in a better position to hold Blair, then he dozed off, too.   
  


A car honking its horn on the street below woke him, and he saw he'd only been asleep for about twenty minutes. Blair was still out, his breathing deep and even. Jim shifted slightly so he could stroke Blair's hair, and thought about what had been revealed this morning. That had *never* come up before; Blair had never mentioned anything about what Caldwell had said to him...no, wait. Yes he did. "Jim's boy-toy"--the phrase had struck him as odd when Blair first used it, but he didn't think much of it at the time. Caldwell had been pretty psychotic, and Jim tended to view anything he said or did liberally. No wonder Blair had been having such a hard time--Caldwell took the feelings he had for Jim, and warped them around and made them part of the sick stuff he'd done to him. He sighed. Well, it was out in the open now; maybe they could begin progressing forward once again.   
  
  
Chapter 6 - Journals   
Blair   
  


Journal Entry - #? 

I thought I was done with this stupid journal, but after Jim brought up what happened this weekend in our session today, Dr. Peli recommended I keep going with it. It's not that I mind the idea of writing so much...just writing about all this. I hate even thinking about that bastard, and what he did to me--writing about it's worse. 

I really hate life again right now. Jim and I were doing so well--I was able to kiss him and hold him...one time jacking him off and I lose it. What a loser I'm turning out to be. I'm back to not touching Jim at all--or letting him touch me, except on my hand. I get the willies whenever he does; I'm afraid I'll use that against him. He says it's alright, and he understands, but I can see the sadness in his eyes. God, that I brought him to this. I wish I could die right now, and just be done with it. I think I'm too much of a coward to even do that though.   
  


* * *

  
Jim

Journal Entry #1 - 

Guess it's my turn to write. Dr. Peli suggested I do it as well, since the next so many days or weeks are probably going to be pretty rough. I turned down personal counseling--for now. I still think that the sessions with Blair will be enough; but left the option open. I wonder why Blair didn't want me to know about the rest of that with Caldwell? After everything else did he think it would disgust me any more? It does--only insofar as that it was done to him. He had no control over the situation. I *never* should have let him in bed with me that night. Of course, when I said that, Dr. Peli said if it hadn't been that, it would have been something else. Shit. I guess we're not going to avoid this after all. Shit.   
  


* * *

  
Blair

Journal Entry #? - 

Who the fuck cares what number it is? As if anyone's gonna read this but me. God, I want nothing more than to kill myself, get done with this. What's stopping me? Jim is, I guess. Oh, I don't think he knows I feel like this--it's more like letting him down after all he's done for me. I don't think I could stand to disappoint him. I love him too much for that... I hope this gets better soon. I wish there was something I could do to change all of this...   
  


* * *

  
Jim

Journal Entry #2 - 

I'm worried--really worried--about Blair. He walks around mumbling to himself about dying; I know he's thinking it. I wish like hell there was something I could do, besides just *be* here- -but I don't know what it would be. He doesn't want to talk; or touch; or anything. He's let me know in no uncertain terms to stay out of his way, and leave him alone. Dr. Peli told me this is like the storm before the sun comes out; but it feels like regression to me. How can he be getting better, if he's getting worse? I keep telling myself that he's getting better, because I want so bad to believe it's true. How long can this last? I'm taking a temporary leave of absence. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to him while I was at work...and he's in no condition to go with me.   
  


* * *

  
Blair

Journal Entry - 

I'm not going to worry about numbering them--it doesn't matter. This may be my last one anyway... 

No. I don't really want to do that, do I? I'm so confused right now. I thought I was getting better...thought I'd put it behind me. Dr. Peli says that it's not unusual to have set-backs like this. Well, this doesn't feel like a set-back. I've had those. This feels like a major fucking failure. I was getting better--what happened? I don't even feel like I can face Jim anymore...   
  


* * *

  
Jim

Journal Entry - 

This is kind of weird to try and explain. I don't really understand it myself. Blair seems almost like he's waiting for a sign or signal of some sort from me before he... I feel like I'm walking on eggshells here. I've talked to Dr. Peli--I called him in a panic last night when I heard Blair mumbling to himself about how easy it would be. He's been listening to the weirdest music--even for him. Celtic stuff, from the sounds of it (who'd ever thought I'd be able to *identify* that stuff?); but this is *eery*. It sounds like death sounds through trees. Nice going, Jim. Good visual there. Shit. Dr. Peli says that unless Blair actually tries to...God, I can't even write it...Unless he actually makes an attempt; there isn't much we can do. Talking about dying is natural. Yeah, right. Not for Sandburg.   
  


* * *

  
Blair

Journal Entry - 

This has got to stop. I feel like I'm splitting into two personalities. One half of me is arguing to just give it up, let it go...get over it. It's been almost six months now...I should be making some sort of progress here. The other half of me is arguing to give in. Let the feelings take hold of me, sweep me away. I'm scared to do that though--the abyss is deep; and I'd probably never come back. Death is a pretty permanent thing. 

So, what do I do? Giving in would be so easy, sometimes. I lay here on my bed, wondering why in the hell Jim still says he's in love with me. Oh, I don't doubt what he says--I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. But *why*? Why does he still love me? Does he see something in me, something worth redeeming? If so, what would it take...before I felt cleansed enough to *feel* worthy of him? I sometimes feel like I could stand in the shower 24 hours a day, and still never come clean.   
  


* * *

  
Jim

There's been a shift in attitudes. Blair's more... contemplative, I guess. I haven't seen him in almost 24 hours-- finally came up to my room last night, after camping on the couch for the last couple of nights. I wonder what he's thinking...I wish he'd share it with me. God knows, I'm not the world's leading person on insight; but I'd like to help. I feel like we've reached an impasse, and I'm not sure how to get past it. We have another appointment tomorrow with Dr. Peli--hopefully he'll have some suggestions on what to do. I feel so helpless over this. It's Blair's struggle, but I can't help wanting to do it for him.   
  


* * *

  
Blair

Journal Entry - 

Now I know how zoo animals must feel. I finally retreated into my room--Jim was beginning to unnerve me. I know he's concerned, but I just don't feel like I can talk about anything yet. I've started writing some poetry. God, I haven't done anything like that since...what, high school? Probably. The imagery isn't pretty, but it's not as bad as it was a couple of days ago. I am *not* writing it in this journal. It's bad enough to have to write this in the first place... Besides, I have plans for some of that poetry--sending it up in smoke is a good place to start. Dr. Peli says that sometimes doing that will help the memories to fade. He also recommended I write a letter to Caldwell, as if I were going to send it to him. Just let everything out...don't hold anything back. I'm going to try to do that tomorrow. I don't know...if I let that much anger out, will I be able to control it again? I just realized...I don't want to die anymore. I don't know what I feel, exactly...but I know I don't want to end my life. I guess that's progress, isn't it?   
  


* * *

  
Blair

Journal Entry - 

Well, I did it. I wrote that damn letter. I did it today, after Jim went back to work. There was no *way* I was going to be able to do it with him hanging around. I was right, too--I almost couldn't control it. I didn't realize just how angry I really was. I've never felt such all-consuming rage before, over anything. I had to stop and start over several times before I was able to finish it. I punched a hole in my wall too, behind the door. If I'm lucky, Jim won't notice it for a long time...and maybe won't care, when he does. It felt good, getting that anger out. Like some cancerous growth being cut away. I don't feel great yet--I'm still scared, nervous, anxious. But I'm not angry; well, not *as* angry. I've got an idea of how to cleanse myself, but I'm going to need Jim's help to pull it off-- and I don't know if he'll go along with it. I'm going to ask him tonight when he gets home from work. He's said all along that he wants to help in anyway he can...I'm going to test that. Wish me luck...   
  
  
Chapter 7 - Steps Forward   


Jim came back from a run around the block that evening, and found Blair sitting at the table, eating--something he hadn't done much of in far too long. He looked up and actually smiled at Jim. 

"Hey, Chief. How're you feeling tonight?" 

"Better. I've been doing a lot of writing lately." 

"Yeah?" Jim sat down next to him, and tried not to breathe in Blair's scent too deeply. 

"Yeah--Dr. Peli was right, much as I hate to admit it. It gets easier writing about it. Some of it I tear up--that helps too. Destroy the memories." 

"Does it help?" 

"Well, I've only done it a couple of times so far, but yeah..it does." 

"I'm glad." 

"Yeah, man...me too." 

Jim pushed up from the table. "Listen, Chief. I need to take a shower. I ran hard tonight. I'll be back out in a few, and we'll talk some more, okay?" 

"Sure, Jim." Blair smiled at him again, and Jim felt his heart contract. Along with other parts of his anatomy that he'd been trying to ignore.   
  


He stood under the hot water, welcoming the heat that pounded down on him. Too bad they didn't make hot water tanks bigger--What was that? 

"That you, Chief?" 

"Yeah. Sorry--forgot I needed something." 

"No sweat." Jim turned away from the curtain and bent to pick up the bar of soap. He turned around in shock as the curtain pulled away and Blair stepped into the shower with him. "Blair? What're you doing?" 

"Symbolism, Jim. Help me get clean. Help me wash myself." Blair pulled the curtain closed on the shower and stepped toward Jim. "Please, Jim. I need this. Help me, okay?" 

"How far are you planning on taking this, Blair?" 

"I don't know. I'll stop you when it's not comfortable any more. Is that all right? I can't...I need to do this--" 

"It's fine, Chief. I'll help, gladly." Jim took hold of Blair's shoulders, and turned them around so that Blair was under the spray. He stared down at him. Blair was watching him, his eyes huge in his face; an imploring look in them. He stepped closer, almost as if to test Blair's resolve, and was surprised and pleased when the younger man didn't flinch or move. He drew Blair to him, then cupped his face in his hands, and lowered his mouth until it was just barely touching Blair's. "Are you sure?" He asked one last time, breathing the question across Blair's lips. 

"Yes." 

One word, but it was all Jim needed to hear. He moved his lips against Blair's, and felt them part beneath his. Hot, sweet...so sweet. Blair flicked his tongue against Jim's, and shivered as the other man groaned. They kissed for several long minutes, then Jim drew away. "Okay?" 

Blair laughed, a little shakily. "So far, so good." 

"Good." Jim reached down for the bar of soap, and began working up a lather. "Let's get you clean, Chief." He used his hands as a washcloth, spreading the lather around Blair; working his way down from his neck to his toes. He could feel Blair alternately tensing and relaxing under his hands, and wondered what had brought on this idea of cleansing. He massaged the body under his hands as he washed it, trying to bring as much pleasure to Blair as he could. He could feel the younger man's nipples harden as his fingertips slid across them; but he didn't linger, because that wasn't what this was about. He worked his way downward, and wasn't surprised that by the time he'd reached Blair's waist his erection was nudging him in the thigh. He brushed his hands tentatively over it, then knelt in front of Blair, and looked up at him. "Chief?" 

Blair nodded, and let out pent up breath in one great gasp. "Yes." He gasped again, then groaned when Jim's mouth closed over him. "Oh, God... Oh, Jim...it's so good..." Jim shifted closer, and began running his tongue up and down the shaft, and under it; taking Blair's testes into his mouth, sucking on them gently. He felt the body under his hands begin to tense, and wasn't surprised to feel hands grasping at his head, pulling him back to the straining erection. "Suck me, Jim..." Blair sounded breathless, but in control, so Jim opened his mouth and relaxed his throat, taking him as far in as he could. He sucked in time to Blair's thrusts; keeping the suction strong as Blair increased his speed. He felt Blair stiffen up, and try to pull back, but he didn't release him until Blair shot into his mouth. He sucked gently until he'd gotten all Blair had to offer, then let go; arms catching Blair as he sank to his knees next to him, panting. He stroked wet hair off Blair's forehead, and planted a kiss there. 

"I love you, Blair." 

"I love you too, Jim." 

"Let's get out before we freeze to death." 

That caught Blair by surprise and he laughed in agreement. He and Jim sluiced water over each other to rinse the last of the soap off, then climbed out of the shower, and dried each other off. When they were dry they put on their shorts, and walked out to the living room. Jim went in the kitchen and came back with two beers, and handed one to Blair, then sat down on the coffee table in front of him. 

"How do you feel?" 

Blair looked at him, considering. "Better, I think." 

"Clean?" 

"Cleaner, anyway. Thank you." 

"My pleasure." 

"I mean it." 

"So do I. Anytime I can touch you, and make you feel good, that's what I want to do for you, Blair. That's what love is about--making the other person feel good. Caring, being there-- it's all wrapped up into one big package." 

"I know. I think...I think I'd like to start sleeping with you, if that's okay?" 

"You don't mean--" 

"No, I don't think I'm ready for that yet. But soon, I hope. Meanwhile, I'd like to curl up with you at night. Is that all right, man?" 

"It's perfect, Blair."   
  
  
Chapter 8a - Loving   
  


It was only the beginning of November, and the Christmas decorations were firmly in place. Blair shook his head as he watched the store fronts flash by. All Jim would tell him when he asked was they were going to Vancouver, and he'd see when they got there. After a while he quit asking. 

"What do you think about how commercialism is taking over Christmas?" 

"Huh?" Jim looked up, startled out his thoughts by the odd question. 

"Yeah, I figured you were way in your head, man." Blair laughed at him. "Never mind." 

"No, what'd you say?" 

"I asked what you think about the commercialism behind Christmas." 

"Can't stand it, myself." 

"Yeah, me neither." 

"Chief--you're Jewish." 

"So?" 

"So, what?" 

"So, I've celebrated Christmas--usually just the tree stuff and the presents. We didn't do the religious end." 

"And that's different?" 

"Hey, Naomi and I didn't do it at all if she was in between men. But since she usually ended up with Gentiles..." Blair spread his hands in joking supplication. "Wasn't my idea." 

Jim snorted, and slowed the truck. "Almost there, Sandburg." 

"So, you gonna tell me where we going?" 

"No. Not yet." 

"Geez, Man--you're trying to drive me crazy, aren't you?" 

"It's good for you, Chief. Teaches you a little patience." 

Blair snickered, then mumbled under his breath; "Pot calling the kettle black." 

"What did you say?" 

"You heard me." 

Jim turned the truck off the main street, and onto a side road. Blair watched out the window in anticipation--even with all the mystery (or maybe because of it?) he was excited--he'd never been to Vancouver...and he couldn't imagine what they were doing here. All he knew it was going to be an overnight, because Jim had told him to pack a bag. Beyond that, he was clueless.   
  


Jim made a couple more turns off the main road, then pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket. There were directions, and a name written on it, but Blair couldn't see from his seat. His mouth dropped open though when Jim pulled the truck up in front of an elegant-looking multi-storied building. 

"What is this place?" 

"The Hotel Vancouver." 

Blair looked at Jim suspiciously. "Mind telling me what we're doing here?" 

"Not at all--I'll explain while we find a parking space. Keep your eyes open." Jim maneuvered the truck into the parking garage that was adjacent to the hotel." 

"Okay, I'm looking. Talk." 

"Well, there's not much to explain. I just though we needed to get away for a few days." 

"Yeah, but Jim...you have work; I have school...I have a test I have to give on Monday!" 

"No you don't." 

"Excuse me? Oh, over there--a spot." 

"I talked Max into taking over your class." 

"Oh you did, huh? I don't suppose it occurred to you I might want some say in this?" 

"It occurred to me...but I figured I take the chance that you would want to take a vacation with me, too." 

Blair sat silently as Jim parked the truck, then turned to look at Jim. "How long have you been planning this?" 

"Couple of months." Jim snuck a look at Blair, to see his partner's face drawn in contemplation. He stretched a hand out and slid it along Blair's thigh, then squeezed gently. "You okay about this? If you're really upset we can head back." 

"No, I'm okay. Just--surprised. Besides," Blair flashed an impish grin at Jim, "no point in wasting all that time spent on the road." 

Jim released a mental sigh of relief. "I just thought we needed to get away for a while. Not have the usual distractions." 

"You're probably right." Blair smiled at Jim, and slid a hand over to rest on Jim' thigh. A month ago he wouldn't have been able to be comfortable doing that, much less leaving it there. Now, he thrilled with the contact. Even without the heightened senses of a sentinel, he could feel Jim's muscles tense under his touch, and marveled that he could have such an affect on him. All he was doing was *touching* a small part of his leg. A large warm hand clasped his, and squeezed; and he looked up to see the clear blue-gray eyes regarding him. 

"I love you, Blair." 

"I love you too, Jim." There was a pause for a heartbeat, then Jim gave a final squeeze, and pulled his hand away. He shut the motor off, and removed the keys. Blair was already out of the truck, grabbing his bag. Jim checked to make sure his gun was secure, then joined his partner. 

"Ready Chief?" 

"Lead on, McDuff."   
  
  


Blair hung out in the lobby while Jim took care of the registration. This was a really fascinating place to look around in--it was obviously quite old, and judging from the pictures on the wall, was still decorated in much the same manner as when it was new. Blair wandered from one wall to another, trying to see as much as he could in the time allotted; until he found his attention drawn once more to Jim. The man moved with an unconscious grace and sensuality--like a large cat. He was strength tempered by softness, like velvet over steel. Jim motioned to him, and he abandoned his thoughts, heading over toward his partner.   
  
  


The room came with a small, stocked kitchenette, and a fireplace. They were on the fifth floor, and had a nice view from the balcony, even if it was too cold to go out and enjoy it. Both men had stripped off their heavy clothes, and were lounging in front of the fireplace in jeans and T-shirts, a beer in hand. 

"This is nice." Blair took a drink from his bottle, and gazed around the room. It was a fairly large room, although the furniture made it seem smaller. Aside from the tiny table and chair set in the kitchenette, there were the two recliner chairs in front of the fireplace, a couple of dressers and there was...one bed. Blair felt a prickle of excitement when he realized that there were no choices--unless he chose the armchair he was currently relaxing in. He'd been sleeping in Jim's bed for just over a month now--although sleeping was all he'd been doing in Jim's bed; cuddling excepted. They still hadn't worked up to much beyond kissing and holding; and occasionally masturbation of self or each other. Although Blair was comfortable with everything they'd been doing, it still took a lot of courage for him to open up like that to Jim--which thankfully, Jim understood. 

"Yeah, it is nice." Blair started a bit as Jim's voice startled him. He'd been so deep into his thoughts there that he'd forgotten where he was, and what was going on around him. "You okay, Chief?" 

"Mmm. I was just thinking, and guess I got lost in the thoughts. Man, you know I need a map to get out of my head sometimes." He grinned at Jim. "So, what's the plan?" 

Jim leaned back in his chair. "A nap." 

"A *nap*? No big discussions, physical activities, sightseeing... nothing?" 

"No." Jim closed his eyes. 

"Man, you're *way* on your way to disappointing me." 

"Why, what'd you have in mind, Chief?" 

"I dunno. I didn't figure I'd have to have anything in mind--you usually have things planned for us." 

Jim opened his eyes and regarded Blair. "Are you saying I'm controlling?" 

Blair fought the urge to laugh. "If the shoe fits, man." He paused. "No, controlling isn't quite it...think 'anal', Jim." 

"You know, Sandburg...you're in a very vulnerable position-- if I wanted to take a pillow, and..." Before Blair could blink Jim had jumped from his chair, and grabbed the pillow he'd stuck behind his head; and whacked Blair over the head with it. 

"Hey! What's up with that?" 

"Pillow fights are physical activity, Chief. Get with the game." 

Blair shook his head. "No way, man. One of us'll end up getting hurt, and I know it'll be me." 

"It's a *pillow*, Chief." 

"Yeah, I know. I'll still get hurt--fall on something; fall *into* something...man, you know how it goes. I attract trouble." 

Jim stood there for a minute, realizing that his roommate was right. He did attract trouble. "Okay. Well, naptime then." Jim made his way over to the bed and lay down. "See you in a while, Chief." 

"Right." 

Jim turned off the light beside the bed, and the room darkened. Blair sat for a while gazing into the fire, wondering if he had the courage to do what he wanted so badly to do. He'd wanted for some time to make love to Jim--and wasn't sure anymore what was stopping him. Maybe it was just being so comfortable finally with the way things were right then that he hesitated to take that last step. Which was really weird thinking, but seemed to make sense. It had taken him so long to achieve the level of comfort that he had, that deep down inside he balked at the thought of changing it--even if that change would be even better than what the present was. A soft snort behind him made him turn around, and his heart contracted painfully. Jim had stretched out on the bed, and was sleeping; one arm flung across his face, the other stretched out beside him. Blair sat there, staring at him for several minutes, feeling the pull within him. At last he climbed to his feet; drained his beer bottle, and headed for the bed. Moving carefully so not to disturb Jim he climbed onto the bed, and settled himself around him. In his sleep Jim instinctively pulled Blair closer to him, and Blair sighed in contentment and fell asleep himself.   
  


He woke sometime later when a log in the fireplace dropped, sending up a shower of sparks. The temp in the room had dropped somewhat, although he couldn't have said why. The heat was still on...Blair got out of bed and went to look out the balcony windows. It was snowing. A lot. Shaking his head in contemplation of how long they'd actually be in Vancouver, he returned to the bed, to find Jim laying there, looking at him. 

"What?" 

"Nothing. C'mere." Jim opened his arms up, and Blair willingly went, snuggling down into the embrace. Jim was so warm...it like hugging a coal. Or a flame. "You're cold, Chief." 

"No, you think? It's getting chilly in here." 

"Want me to build the fire back up?" 

"I can do it..." 

"Nah. You get under the covers. Is it snowing out there?" 

"Like you wouldn't believe. Jim, I--What?" He broke off at Jim's chuckle. "Is there more going on here than meets the eye?" 

"Maybe." 

"Jim, I can't get snowed in here--I have a test I have to give Monday." 

"No--I already told you, that's taken care of." 

"Still. We could *try* to get back in time..." 

"I talked to Max--he's going to give the test for you. We're not going back until Tuesday morning--unless we get snowed in longer than that. Simon knows we're out of town, and that we'll be back then, pending weather conditions. I took vacation time for this, Chief." 

"When did you talk to Max?" 

"A couple of days ago. I told him if he breathed a word of this to you I'd drop him off the pier into the Pacific." 

"Must have been an effective threat--he never said a word." 

"Pacific's cold this time of year." Jim finished poking the fire, added a couple of logs, then headed back for the bed. He paused to shuck off his jeans and shirt; and climbed in clad only in his boxers. He caught Blair's eye then, and grinned. "What?" 

Blair rolled his eyes. "What'd you have in mind, Jim?" 

"Nothing, Chief. Just getting comfortable. It's hard to relax in jeans." 

"Huh?" 

"Laying in bed in denim is not comfortable for me. So I'm not going to." 

Blair snorted. "Right. Should I undress?" 

Silence for a heartbeat. "Do you want to?" Jim's voice had a husky quality to it that hadn't been there a minute ago, and Blair felt his pulse speed up. 

"I don't--know." 

"Do whatever feels right, Chief. The rules haven't changed. You're still in charge here." 

Blair stared at him for a long moment, then unfastened his jeans and wiggled out of them. He sat up and pulled the shirt over his head, and dropped it on the floor. He sat there, staring at Jim, feeling the weirdest sensations in his stomach. It felt like something was wiggling around--butterflies would have been tame, in comparison. His heart felt like it would thunder out of his chest at any given moment. Jim reached up and rubbed his thumb across Blair's lips, and he opened his mouth to catch it between his teeth, nipping gently. Jim growled low in his throat. "You're going to play like that, hmm?" 

Blair shook his hair out of his eyes. "Maybe. Maybe not." He gazed down at Jim, eyes dark and serious. "Jim...man, I don't know. I want to do this, so bad...I just don't know if I can." 

Jim sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position against the pillows. He pulled Blair into his arms, holding him tightly against him, and lowered his head so his cheek rested on Blair's head. "Baby, it's up to you. I'm not pushing. I can stop touching you right now, if you want me to. We don't do anything--and I mean *anything*, Blair--that you don't want to do." 

"That's the problem. I want to--my heart, anyway. My head's just not so sure." 

"Well, maybe we just need to fix it so that your heart is talking louder than your head." Blair could feel Jim's smile against his hair, and felt himself smile in return. 

"Good luck--been trying to do that for years, myself." He untangled himself from Jim's arms and drew back slightly. "You might have a better chance though..." 

"What are you saying, Chief?" 

"You'll stop any time it gets uncomfortable?" 

"Any time. You just say the word." 

"Okay." Blair stared at Jim, and licked his lips nervously. He'd just given tacit permission to--what? "Umm...what are we going to do?" 

Jim cocked an eyebrow at him. "What do you want to do?" 

Blair rolled his eyes, and threw himself backward into a reclining position. "Man, you're too much. You know that? Which one of us is doing the seducing here?" 

"Well...I'd kind of thought we both were." Jim's voice had dropped an octave, and reached a finger out to trace the outline of Blair's lips, rubbing back and forth over the full lower lip. "I seduce you; you seduce me." The combination of touch and sound was hypnotic, and Blair found himself drowning in sensation. He parted his mouth slightly to speak, and found his lips covered by Jim's. With a groan of want and need he gave himself over to the emotions swirling within him, and opened himself to his lover. Blair reached his arms up and wrapped them around Jim's neck, pulling him down toward him. He clung on to Jim for dear life as the bigger man plundered his mouth; forced his lips open. Instead of thrusting his tongue deep in though, Jim seemed content to thrust shallowly, teasing Blair's tongue, inviting him in to play. Blair opened his mouth further, and began exploring Jim's mouth; allowed him access to his. They remained locked together, exchanging hot, open kisses, until Jim thought that the wet sounds of their tongues mating together would cause him to come right then. He pulled away with a groan, and ran his hands up and down Blair's arms. "Okay, Chief?" 

Blair stared at him with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Oh, yeah." He pulled Jim back to him, and this time he took the initiative, teasing Jim's tongue into his mouth, sucking on it. One of Jim's hands was snaking down his back, exploring the warm skin there. Blair lay back on the bed and pulled Jim onto him, both men groaning as warm skin met warm skin. Jim focused on the sensations of Blair's chest hair rubbing on his chest; it was soft...crisp...and it tickled, just a little bit. Blair had let go of his mouth, and was licking down his throat, and his tongue felt like wet velvet... 

"Blair..." Jim groaned. He felt the sensation stop, and drew back slightly, gasping for air. "Let me..." He slid down Blair a little bit; and began to kiss his way downward, spreading little nipping kisses all along the hot skin exposed when Blair threw his head back. He licked down the column of Blair's throat, stopping to suck gently on the Adam's apple bobbing there, eliciting a groan from Blair. He moved further down, gently licking, sucking, and biting, until he reached Blair's nipples. He sucked one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, and felt his cock surge and twitch as Blair gasped. He smiled against Blair's chest; then licked one hard, puckered bud, then blew air across it. The little nub tightened even further, and Blair groaned under him. He brought his other hand up and began teasing at the other nipple; pulling on it gently, and pinching slightly. He could feel Blair's hips beginning to move under him; jerking without control. Jim slid the rest of the way down his lover, and pulled his shorts off. He licked and kissed his way up from Blair's knees to his navel, then began again, going downward. Blair arched his back, trying to get Jim to lick where he most needed that attention; he was so close that his hips were moving continuously under Jim's caresses. Jim smiled, and licked his way up the shaft of Blair's cock, and took the head into his mouth. Blair gasped and half came off the bed, relaxing back down as he abandoned himself to the sensation. Jim's mouth was warm...wet...and oh, God he was going to... 

"Jim! I'm gonna...I can't...--" He was having trouble making his mouth work with his brain--he could feel the heat building up through his body, and his hips jerked convulsively. Jim held on to him, and deep-throated him as far as could take him. Blair screamed and came, thrusting deep into Jim's mouth; releasing pent up frustration along with the pleasure. Jim held him in his mouth; sucking on him until Blair was done. He tasted the salty, slightly bitter fluid on his tongue, and felt himself get even harder from the erotic taste. Then he moved back up and kissed Blair gently. Blair tasted himself on Jim, and marveled at how wonderful it had been. He sent a questing hand down Jim's body and felt the other man shudder with need. "We need to do something about you, Jim." He grasped Jim's cock through his boxers, and began stroking up and down. Jim gasped as the sensations assailed his senses, and he clamped down on himself with iron control. He didn't want to come just yet. 

"Only if you're sure, Chief," he said hoarsely. He groaned then as Blair moved his body full against Jim, and began undulating against him. 

"I'm sure," he breathed into his ear. He was, too. To stop at this point would have been more painful than going on could possibly be. His body was afire from the sensations that Jim's hands, tongue and lips had produced in him. The feel of Jim's cock pressed hard against his belly was exciting him too, and he wanted to feel more of it. Jim gave another groan as he felt Blair pushing his shorts off his hips, and turned his head; mouth instinctively seeking Blair's. Their lips melded together, tongues tangling deliciously. Jim wondered briefly at what point would they catch fire or melt from the heat they were generating; but then Blair's fingers began doing wonderful things to his cock and balls, and he couldn't think anymore. 

He shuddered when he felt Blair's hot breath on him...followed by the touch of just the tip of Blair's tongue, licking slowly around the head of his cock. He arched upward, seeking the wet heat he knew was there, but Blair pulled away from him. Jim groaned and opened his eyes, watched Blair watching him. "What?" He managed. 

"Nothing...just wondered if you were ready." 

"God, Chief...I want you...want it, so bad...Please..." Jim knew he'd stop if Blair said he couldn't go on, but it would probably kill him. He almost sobbed in relief when he felt Blair's mouth close over him; tongue swirling and teeth scraping gently down the underside as that warm cavern created a vacuum of suction. He began thrusting into Blair's mouth, unable to stop himself. It was so wonderful...he wanted it to go and on and--he jerked suddenly as he felt a finger probing against his anus, fingertip trailing up and down the valley between his ass. Jim stretched his arms out, gathering handfuls of the sheets into his clenched fists, holding on for support. He could feel Blair working to relax the muscles in his throat; without any warning he opened up wide and deep-throated him. Jim jerked and screamed, and with a hard thrust that nearly gagged Blair, came in long hot spurts into the other man's mouth. He could feel Blair's throat working to swallow his essence, and the gentle massaging of the muscles against his now sensitive organ sent shivers racing down his spine. 

Blair sat back, and wiped at his mouth. "Did that feel as good as it sounded?" 

"Better," Jim replied weakly. "And if it'd felt any better than that, I'd be dead." 

Blair laughed gently, and lay down in the circle of Jim's arms. 

"You okay, Chief?" 

"Yeah. Just kind of--assimilating it all, you know? That was pretty intense." 

"Yes it was. Are you sorry?" 

"About what?" 

Jim rolled onto his side, keeping Blair within his embrace. "Any of it. All of it. I don't know." 

"No, Jim. I'm not sorry we did any of it. If I'm sorry about anything, it's that we didn't make love." 

"We did make love, Chief." 

"Not completely." 

"I guess you're going to have to redefine 'making love' for me then; I was under the impression that any sex act between two people who love each other was making love." 

"You know what I mean." Blair looked away. 

"You mean penetration." 

"Yeah." 

"We'll do that too, Chief. When you're ready. In the meantime," Jim gently turned Blair's face back toward him. "In the meantime, anything we do together I consider making love. I don't care if we just lay here kissing--I love you, and we're making love between us." 

"Oh, Jim..." Blair couldn't breathe suddenly for the emotion constricting his chest. "I don't deserve you." 

"No. You probably deserve better. But I'm afraid you're stuck with me now. I don't plan on letting you go." Jim tried to smile, to ease the moment a bit; but it wasn't working. Blair continued to stare into his eyes, until he felt like he would drown in those smokey blue eyes; felt he was being pulled inward, into Blair's soul. 

"That's fine," Blair finally said, in a soft voice. "I couldn't let you go if I had to." He tugged Jim's head down to his, and pressed his lips against the other man's. Jim returned the brief kiss, then rolled over onto his back, taking Blair with him. 

"Go to sleep, Babe. We've got plenty of time."   
  
  
Chapter 8b - Loving   
  


What was that noise? Jim came awake suddenly, brain in full cop-mode, reaching for the gun he'd placed under the pillow. He settled back as he realized it was nothing more than wind noise against the eaves. It was full dark in the room, with nothing left of the fire but some glowing embers. How long had they been asleep? Blair mumbled something in his sleep, and shifted, rolling away from Jim. Realizing that his bladder was going to explode if he didn't get up right away, Jim groped around for his shorts, which had been tossed wildly during their activities-- what, yesterday? Last night? He shook his head, giving up on the shorts, and headed for the bathroom. A silvery thread of moonlight streamed in through the curtains on the balcony doors, and Jim raised his arm toward it to look at his watch. It was 3:30am. Jesus, they'd been sleeping for almost twelve hours. No wonder he was hungry... 

He finished and flushed the toilet, then went back to look for his shorts. First priority then was build the fire back up. After that, coffee and a snack. Hopefully Blair would sleep a while longer--he needed the rest. Although his sleep wasn't disturbed by nightmares any longer, the long months had taken a toll on him, and he still had circles under his eyes. They weren't as pronounced any more; and in fact had faded for the most part, only reappearing when Blair tried to over-do. Everything about Blair was blossoming. He'd gained enough weight back that his clothes didn't hang on him anymore; his hair--that beautiful, scruffy mane--had grown back entirely from what he'd cut off; and he'd added some length to it. His eyes didn't look haunted any longer. 

Jim decided against the coffee when Blair snorted sleepily after he nearly dropped the can opener. He could have a beer at 3:30am if he wanted--he was on vacation. And judging by the snow he could see out the window, it wouldn't have mattered anyway. They were going to be here for a while. He popped the cap off, and settled into one of the chairs in front of the now-roaring fire. This was a good idea. He drained the beer in several long gulps, then sat back to watch the flames dance.   
  


The smell of coffee and eggs woke him with a start. He could hear Blair mumbling under his breath about the toaster, and he glanced down at his watch. 8:00am. He'd fallen back asleep then. 

Jim stretched in the chair, enjoying the sensation of joints popping, and stood up. "Morning, Chief." 

Blair looked up at him. "Morning, yourself. When did you get up the first time?" 

Jim grimaced slightly as the muscles in his back spasmed. That's what he got for sleeping in an arm chair. "Around 3:30, I guess. Sleep well?" 

"You mean all 17 hours of it? Yeah, I did. Guess I was more tired than I thought." Blair poked around in a drawer and came up with silverware. "Breakfast's ready, if you're hungry." 

"Starved." He walked over to the table, and taking Blair's wrist in his hand, pulled him gently to him. "I could eat, too." He lowered his mouth to Blair's, and felt Blair's open under his, tongue questing. They exchanged a long kiss, heat building in it, until Jim was afraid his knees wouldn't support him any longer. He pulled back. "Whew...you should come with a warning label, Sandburg. No one should kiss like that at eight in the morning." 

Blair turned a slight pink in color, and Jim grinned. That Blair could blush after what he'd done to him yesterday! "Sit down and eat, Jim." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Knock it off, *Detective*." 

"Ummm--want to play like that, huh?" 

"I'm outta names after that one." Blair sat down next to Jim and took the plate of eggs from him. "Thanks. We're gonna have to come up with a name for you, man." 

Jim raised his eyebrows. "What's wrong with the one I have?" 

"Nothing, but you know. You call me 'Chief' and all that; I'd like something else to call you." 

"A nickname." 

"Term of endearment." 

"Same thing." 

"Not necessarily." 

"Eat your eggs, Sandburg." Jim smirked at Blair. A nickname? For him? Yeah, right. 

"You just wait, Jim. I'll think of something." Blair raised his own eyebrow, then turned back to his food. "So what's the plan for today?" 

"Looked out the window lately Chief?" 

"No--not recently." 

"There's about four feet of snow out there. I don't think it's stopped snowing since yesterday afternoon." 

"Guess sightseeing's out of the question, huh?" 

Jim smirked. "I'd say so." 

"Well, I guess I can always go back to bed; catch up on my missing sleep." 

Jim choked on his coffee. "Unless you have other plans for the bed?" Blair flushed slightly, and Jim silently cursed himself. "I'm sorry Chief--that was...I shouldn't have said it like that." 

"S'okay, Jim. I'm not going to break, you know. You can stop handling me with gloves on." 

"As long as I don't have to stop handling you." 

"No." Softly. 

"Blair. Are you sure you're okay?" 

"Fine. Just--getting used to stuff again. It's been awhile, man." 

"I know. I'm sorry, Chief." 

"Stop apologizing, Jim. Geez, I'm okay, alright? I really am." 

"Okay, okay. You want me to do the dishes?" 

"Yeah, that'd be good. I'll cook, you clean. You're more anal about that anyway." 

Jim smiled against his coffee cup and stood up to clear off the dishes.   
  


They spent most of the rest of the morning sitting in front of the fire, talking. Well, Blair talked and Jim listened. Although he'd have died before saying so, the myriad things that his partner was knowledgeable in fascinated him. Oh, yeah, it got on his nerves sometimes; Sandburg would pull these ideas, thoughts, whatever off the top of his head, and go on for hours about them; but for the most part it was interesting. Blair had done extensive field work over the last five or six years, and it showed. He was wrapping up a dissertation on the marriage rites and rituals of a little-known African tribe when there was a loud popping noise and the lights went out. 

"Shit--that's not good." Jim looked at Blair. "I don't know if the fireplace can heat this place adequately." 

Blair nodded. "Try the phone--see if the front desk has any suggestions, or procedures. 

Jim picked the receiver up. "No dial tone." He shook his head. "Guess we'll just stay put then. If the phones and lights are out, the elevators will be, too." He grinned at Blair then. "Do we have enough beer and snacks?"   
  


Two hours and the room was considerably cooler. Blair's teeth had begun chattering slightly, despite his efforts to stay warm by staying as close to the fire as possible. Jim frowned, watching him huddle in front of the fireplace. 

"Let's bring the mattress over in front of the fire--we can both crawl under the covers and share body heat. We'll stay warmer that way." 

They shoved the chairs around and moved the mattress from the bed to the floor in front of the fire. Jim added the extra blankets he found in the armoire, and ordered Blair under them. After making sure that the door locks were secure, Jim stripped down and crawled in with Blair. "C'mere, Chief." 

"I j-just c-can't g-g-get warm..." 

"I'm gonna help with that. Come here." He turned Blair onto his side, and spooned his body up around him, pulling the smaller man as tight to him as he could. Then Jim reached around and clasped Blair's hands in his. Blair sighed in relief as blessed heat began moving through his chilled body. They lay like that for a long time before Blair's shivers stopped, then started again for entirely different reasons. 

Jim felt Blair pushing himself back against him; and felt his body tightening in response. No, dammit! This wasn't the time... Blair wiggled against him. 

"Hold still, Sandburg," he hissed in his ear. "What are you trying to do?" 

"You're the detective, man. You tell me." Blair brought one of Jim's hands up to his mouth, and sucked the tip of his index finger in. He continued to suck on the tip, swirling it around in his mouth, then drawing the whole finger in, nibbling along it. 

Shit. "Chief--" 

"Shut up, Jim." 

Jim tried one last time. "I don't know if--" 

Blair let go of his finger and turned over in his arms. "Jim--be quiet. I'm sure we can find better things for your mouth to be doing." With that he pulled Jim's face to his, and opened his mouth to him. Jim gave up with a groan, and pulled Blair into him, his mouth opening for Blair's tongue. They rubbed against each other, tongues mimicking the actions of their bodies, until the need for oxygen forced them apart, gasping. 

"You've got too many clothes on, Jim," Blair gasped out, moving to his knees; hands skimming down Jim's sides, looking for the hem of his shirt. He raised Jim up and pulled the shirt off the other man, and tossed it over the chair behind them. 

"So do you, Chief." His shirt went the way of Jim's. They knelt there, staring at each other with hot eyes, until Blair reached a hand out to touch one of Jim's nipples. He brushed his fingertips across it, then back again--and it was like a jolt of electricity ripping through Jim. He groaned and pulled Blair back against him; ground his pelvis into Blair's. Blair moaned and pushed back. 

"God, Jim...it's..." 

"Your call, Chief," Jim rasped out. "You're in charge." *Please don't say stop...please...* "What do you want?" 

"You." The single word, low-pitched and hoarse, nearly undid Jim right then. He growled and lowered his mouth to Blair's neck, biting him there--gently enough not to break the skin; but roughly enough to let Blair know he was laying claim. Blair turned his head to the side, exposing more of the tender skin for Jim's perusal; and gasped when he felt teeth digging in again. "Oh, yeah, man..." 

"Like that, huh?" Jim moved his teeth to Blair's ear, nipping at the lobe before taking it into his mouth to suckle. 

"Oh, yeah...Don't stop. Just don't stop..." Blair nearly sobbed when Jim pulled away from him. 

"Just taking my pants off, Chief. I'll be right back." Jim began drawing his longjohns off, and Blair scrambled to remove his own. 

The momentary lull was enough for both of them to regain a measure of control. Blair took a deep breath, and looked at Jim. "Did you bring...anything?" 

It took Jim a second to figure out what he was talking about, then he nodded. "I have them in my bag." 

"Get 'em then." 

Jim nodded, and got off the mattress. He rummaged around in his bag until he located the box of condoms and tube of KY Jelly he'd brought, just in case. He handed both items to Blair, who set them on the warm side of the mattress; then knelt back down next to Blair. "Still want to do this?" 

Blair looked up at him with eyes so hot Jim nearly caught fire then. "Yes." 

"Oh, Baby...I love you, Blair." 

"I love you, Jim. Kiss me?" 

"With pleasure." 

Jim cupped Blair's face in his hands, and began to brush soft kisses across his mouth, barely touching those warm lips. He nibbled on the full lower lip, and ran his tongue across them, slipping it in and out slightly, but never fully penetrating. He pulled back then, and pushed Blair gently down onto the mattress. Blair tensed slightly, and Jim brushed a gentle kiss onto his forehead. "Relax, Baby. I only want to love you. Will you let me? I'll stop if you need me to." 

"Oh, Jim...I want you so bad...Please, help me with this..." Blair closed his eyes, and threw his head back, offering himself to Jim. 

Jim closed his own eyes for a minute, and took a deep breath. Then he reached out and began stroking along Blair's body, long massaging strokes, trailing his fingers occasionally; touching every inch of skin. Blair wiggled under his hands, and he stopped the tickling motions. He straddled Blair's hips on his knees, and began the motions over, this time with his tongue. Blair moaned low in his throat as Jim licked up and down his chest; paying special attention to his nipples, then continuing down toward his navel. Jim tasted each inch of Blair's skin until he was satisfied he could find his way around him in the dark, then moved on. The hair on Blair's chest had a silky, yet rough texture under his tongue, and it got sparser the lower he went; until he reached Blair's pubic hair, where there was more, and it was crisper in texture than the other had been. He licked his way down Blair's erection, taking care not to suck on it like he so desperately wanted to do. His intention was to slowly push Blair to the brink; but not over the edge. Not yet. He felt his own erection pulse at the thought, and tried to put it out of his mind. He concentrated instead on the pounding pulse he could sense in the veins running through Blair's cock--he could almost see the blood pounding there. Blair moaned and pushed up against Jim, but he gently pressed his hips back down again. They were going to go slow...so slow, so hot, until Blair would be so hot for him he wouldn't want anything else. He licked down the shaft again, and took each of Blair's balls into his mouth, one at a time, then licked underneath them. The delicate skin of the perineum was exposed when Blair arched his back and spread his legs wider. Jim let go of Blair's testes and moved toward the crease in Blair's legs, where hip and thigh joined. He felt Blair quivering under him as he licked along that crease, inhaling the intoxicating scent of sweat, heat, and Blair; all mixed together. He nibbled across Blair's waist to the other leg, then licked his way back down; following the crease to where it turned into the curve of Blair's cheeks. He stopped then for a minute, wondering if he should go on like this. Blair was laying with his head thrown back, hands grasping at the sheets. Jim could hear him mumbling, "pleasepleasepleaseplease" over and over, and decided this was working just fine. He scooted lower, and ran his tongue very lightly down the valley between Blair's cheeks. Blair moaned and jerked toward him, and Jim pressed him down again. He spread Blair's legs open further, and lay between them, gently caressing the skin with his hands as he opened Blair up to his inspection. Lowering his head he breathed in the musky scent that was a part of Blair, and extended his tongue, running it lightly up and down the crease. Blair sobbed above him, trying to jerk his hips. Jim licked up and down Blair's cheeks, but never quite went where Blair wanted him to. He ran his tongue over the soft skin of Blair's ass, then back up to his thighs, feeling the younger man's body quivering under him, begging for release. He wet one finger in his mouth, and gently pressed it to the puckered little opening, while he began working his way back up to Blair's straining cock. Blair gasped and tensed up as he felt Jim's finger moving into him; and for a minute Jim wondered if they'd be able to continue. His own cock throbbed painfully at the thought of having to stop now; but he knew he would, if Blair asked him. 

Blair didn't say anything though--he was past the ability to speak. He relaxed his body, and allowed Jim's finger entry; then pushed slightly back against it. His whole body felt like it was on fire, and he needed Jim to help him put it out. He groped along the side of the mattress for the lubricant, and handed it blindly to Jim. "More," he managed to gasp. 

"Are you sure?" Last chance. 

"Absolutely." 

"Okay. Turn over then." Jim withdrew his finger, and helped Blair onto his stomach. Blair drew his knees up under him slightly, and Jim couldn't resist leaning down and giving one caressing lick to the puckered little opening exposed there to him. He felt Blair shudder under him, and reached quickly for a condom. He rolled it onto his cock with shaking hands, then moved up against Blair, crouching slightly beside and behind him. He ran his hands up and down Blair's back, going closer and closer each time to his ass. He could feel the younger man tense under his touch as he caressed him, and leaned down to whisper, "It's me, Baby. I'm not going to hurt you--I just want to make love to you." 

He heard Blair sob in the back of his throat, and saw him visibly relax. Jim lubed up his finger again, and began running it up and down the crease of Blair's cheeks. "Oh, God, Jim..." Blair was panting now--or hyperventilating; Jim was having trouble focusing on anything but the feel of Blair's body under his hands. He gently pressed his finger against the pucker of Blair's anus, and pushed. Blair relaxed his body, and Jim's finger gained entry. He held it there for a moment, feeling Blair's muscles clenching and relaxing around him; then began to slowly move it back and forth. Blair's gasps and whimpers reached his ears as he pushed a second finger in; then a third. He worked the fingers in and out until Blair was pushing back against him, then removed the fingers. Blair sobbed with the sensation of loss; that quickly turned to gasps of pleasure as Jim placed his cock at Blair's entrance and began pushing into him. He felt Jim pushing in, and gasped with the sensation of being filled. Jim angled his penetration slightly, and began pushing gently against Blair's prostrate--the younger man jerked back against him slightly and gave a short scream of pleasure. When he was all the way in, with his pelvis meeting Blair's ass; Jim paused to grab on to the shreds of his control. Blair was so hot...so tight; he could feel his cock throbbing deep inside. He slid his sweat-slicked hands up along Blair's arms, until he reached his hands, then Jim entwined their fingers together, squeezing tightly. "Ready, Chief?" he whispered in Blair's ear. 

"Oh, yeah, man. Do it! Please..." Blair pushed back against Jim, and tightened his sphincter muscle. He felt Jim's cock pulse within him, and then began to move as Jim began thrusting in and out. Jim leaned down and gently bit Blair's neck as he made love to him; Blair gasped and squeezed even tighter on Jim's fingers. Jim let go with one hand and brought it around to stroke at Blair's hard cock; he began to pump him in time with his own thrusts, and felt Blair's orgasm build even as his did. They came together, Blair spilling his essence against Jim's hand as Jim came deep inside him; an explosive climax that enveloped both of them in a cloud of lust, fueled by their love for each other, and the specialness of that first time. 

Jim felt his arms giving under him, and pushed himself to his side. *Don't fall on Blair, you'll squash him,* His brain warned him. Blair rolled to his side with him, until they were spooned up to each other, Jim still inside Blair; still joined as one. He felt Blair shuddering in his arms, and gently ran his hands up and down Blair's arms, seeking to caress, to comfort. "Shh, baby. It's alright." *Oh, God...had they pushed too soon?* 

Blair laughed, sounding like a cross between a hiccough and a sob. "I know...it was...you were...Oh, God, Jim...it was beautiful. Thank you..." 

Jim pressed a kiss against Blair's neck. "I should be thanking you, Chief--not the other way around. What you just gave me was--" He broke off, not knowing words adequate to express what he was feeling. It was too intense. He shivered and pressed his face into Blair's neck. "I love you," He whispered finally, hoping it was enough. 

"I love you, too," Blair whispered back. Jim pulled out then, feeling a pang with the loss of contact, and tossed the condom into the fire. He spooned back up against Blair, and they fell asleep, holding onto each other.   
  


Jim woke when he heard a hissing popping noise. The light in the bathroom came on, and he realized the electricity must be back on. Blair stirred slightly in his arms, and he ran a hand down his side. "Hey, Chief...want to wake up?" 

"Mmm...no, not really." Blair stretched himself, and Jim took the opportunity to admire the view of the lithe body next to his. "Electricity just came back on. We should have heat pretty soon." 

Blair turned in his arms. "I thought we did pretty good making heat on our own." He gave Jim a seductive grin, and felt Jim's body move into his. "Thought so. You're insatiable, aren't you, lover?" 

"Only for you, baby." Jim kissed Blair, then moved back reluctantly. "I need to check the thermostat. Hopefully we won't have to call the front desk or anything." 

Blair sat up slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "How long did we sleep?" 

Jim shrugged. "I have no idea. A couple of hours maybe? Why?" 

"Just wondered. I'm hungry, and trying to decide if I should make us lunch or dinner?" As if to illustrate his point, Blair's stomach growled then. 

"Whatever. Just as long as it's food, and it's hot, I don't--Jesus! Oh God, Blair--I'm sorry." 

"Sorry? For what?" Blair looked at the stricken face of his lover, and saw that he was staring at his neck. "Jim? What's wrong? Hey!" He protested as Jim grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the bathroom, pushing him toward the mirror. 

"*That's* what's wrong! God, Chief...I didn't mean--" 

"Jim, shut up." Blair inspected his neck. "So, you gave me a few hickeys. What's the big deal?" 

"You look like you were mauled by a big cat, or something." 

"Who says I wasn't? Just remember to sheathe your claws, Wildcat, and I'll be happy." Blair turned away from the mirror, a grin on his face. "A few bite marks, Jim. Not a big deal, man. Get over it. You didn't hurt me; I enjoyed it." 

"You did?" 

"Did you hear me complaining at the time? Or now, for that matter?" 

"No..." Actually, it dawned on Jim, Blair was acting a lot like the old Blair. He shook his head. "Guess I'll just have to be careful I don't break the skin." 

"Attaboy, Jim. Now...let's see about *food*, okay? Before I pass out from low blood sugar, or something."   
  


They made it home on Wednesday. Even Cascade had received some snow from that storm; and it had taken them eight and a half hours to make the three hour trip. Jim just shook his head the entire time, and mumbled a lot of comments like "Thank God for four-wheel drive." 

Blair used the time to think about what all had happened up there. He would have a lot of things to discuss with Dr. Peli when he met for their weekly session on Friday; but he was okay with everything that had happened. As far as he was concerned, it was long over-due. His body ached slightly--in a good way-- from the workout it had been given. Sex, he reflected, was hard on a body that hadn't had any in almost six months. He snuck a look at Jim; the man almost looked smug. *Well lover, I feel that way too.* Blair sighed. Life was really looking up.   
  
  
Chapter 9 - Full Circle   
  


They got home late, and Jim called Simon to tell him they were back in town, but that he wouldn't be in until Monday. Blair listened in on the conversation, grinning at the way Jim was lying bald-faced to his Captain. 

"No, Simon...No, I'm not coming in until Monday. I have the vacation time--well, yeah, I know...No. I pulled a couple of muscles--lot of exertion, all that snow...yeah...yeah...okay. Yeah, I'll see you Monday morning." 

Blair was laughing by the time Jim got off the phone. "What did the snow have to do with any of our exertions?" 

"Nothing--but Simon doesn't need to know that, does he?" 

"No...it's probably better if he doesn't." 

"Actually, Chief--he knows some." 

"About us?" 

"Yeah. I think he knew before I did that I was in love with you. Simon's a pretty intuitive man." Jim searched Blair's face. "You okay with that?" 

"I'm fine with it. Are *you* okay?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Mr. Straight as an Arrow? Can't imagine, myself." 

Jim made a face at Blair. "What can I say? Sometimes love comes in unexpected packages." He pulled Blair to him, settling him between his legs. "And this is the best package I've ever seen." He lowered his mouth onto Blair's, and claimed him for his own.   
  


Blair woke up the next morning wondering when they'd gone to bed. He was sore in muscles he didn't know he'd had. Thank God he didn't teach on Thursdays, and thank the same God that Jim wasn't going into work. Where was Jim, anyway? He sniffed the air and smelled coffee. As long as Jim didn't cook the breakfast... He'd just gotten out of bed and was stretching, when Jim's voice called up to him. 

"Hey, Sandburg--you up yet?" 

"Yeah, man. Keep your shorts on--I'll be right there." He hopped out of bed to discover that the aforementioned shorts were no where around. Blushing slightly he padded downstairs, naked; stopped dead on the last step to see Jim walking around the same way. "Er...Jim?" 

"Hi, Chief." Jim crossed the room in quick strides, and kissed him deeply. With Blair on the step, their height was almost equal, and it was a heady experience for Blair. He wrapped his arms around Jim and returned the kiss, thrusting his tongue deep into the other man's mouth. Jim sucked on it, then began caressing it with his own. Blair shuddered and felt himself growing hard--felt Jim getting hard as well, as their bodies began rubbing together. "Oh, yeah, baby..." Jim groaned as he pulled away. "You've got the most incredible mouth..." 

Blair laughed hoarsely. "I could say the same for you." 

"What do you want, Chief?" Quiet, right in his ear. 

"You. I want you." He let his hands roam down Jim's back, and began caressing the valley in between his cheeks. Jim shuddered in answer, and shifted slightly so his legs were a little further apart, giving Blair better access. Blair sucked on his finger for a minute, the began gently pushing that finger into Jim's anus. Jim tensed for a minute, then relaxed and pushed against the finger. It was an odd sensation, but not unpleasureable. Blair licked his way across Jim's neck and breathed into his ear, "First time?" 

"Yeah...for this." 

Blair smiled into Jim's neck, and continued thrusting, adding a second finger. "Usually on top, huh?" 

"Uh...yeah...oh, God..." Jim was hanging on to Blair's shoulders in earnest now, grinding his pelvis against Blair's. 

"Wanna be the bottom?" He pulled the fingers out, and Jim groaned in frustration, hips bucking against Blair. 

"Oh God, yes..." He leaned into Blair and captured his mouth in a fiery kiss, then reached down and grabbed him around the waist and began moving toward Blair's room. 

"No...the couch." Blair drew back. "We need stuff." He darted into his room and returned with a condom and a small tube of lubricant. Jim raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything, just knelt on the couch, a questioning look on his face. 

"Face the back...kind of lean against it." Blair tore the condom package with his teeth, and reached for the lube. He stopped when he felt Jim's fingers on his. 

"Let me." Blair raised his eyes to meet Jim's, and saw that they were wide with passion; irises dilated and dark. He felt a rush of pleasure knowing that he'd brought him to this state--now to finish it off... He moaned low in his throat as Jim rolled the condom down on him, and began stroking his cock, spreading the lube on him. "Stop," He groaned, as Jim's fingers caressed the head. "I want to come inside you; not here." He took the tube and squeezed a small amount out. "Turn around, and spread your legs a bit. Lean against the couch." Jim did as Blair instructed, then felt the cool touch of lube being spread around and worked into his anus. He felt Blair move up behind him--he was so sensitized to him now that he'd have sworn he could feel his shadow--and a pressure against his anus. Jim willed himself to relax, and felt the pressure increase. Then Blair was inside, filling him; stretching him. He moaned as he felt the pressure increase to barely tolerable levels, then fall off abruptly as Blair's hand suddenly grasped his hard cock. All senses were suddenly contained within a few square inches of his body--the feel of Blair in him; holding on to him. He could smell the other man's arousal, and it excited him further. He pushed against Blair's hand impatiently, and felt the other man pulse within him in answer. Then Blair began moving, slowly...giving him time to adjust to him. Jim felt the excitement building in him, and began thrusting his hips in counter-rhythm, trying to pull Blair deeper within in. 

Blair felt himself moving closer to the edge...it'd been a while since he'd been on the giving end this way; and it was as wonderful as he remembered. He leaned over Jim's body, holding on to a hip with one hand, stroking Jim's beautiful, hard cock with the other. Jim shuddered, and shivered, feeling tendrils of heat and ice beginning to curl outward from his groin. He pushed harder back against Blair, felt the answering thrust, and the stroke along his cock. He clenched his muscles around Blair, and tensed his own body, feeling his orgasm overtake him. He shouted, spraying all over Blair's hand and his own stomach; and felt Blair explode within him, as his muscles forced the climax.   
  


Blair fell against him, and they collapsed together on the couch, breathing heavily for several minutes before being able to think or speak again. Jim nipped at Blair's neck, then nuzzled the stinging spot. "You've done that before," he said, reaching to stroke Blair's face. 

"Yes." 

"A lot?" 

"No--just a few times. It was more of a mutual, 'let's see how these things work' with a friend when I was a teenager--then once or twice since." 

"Mmm." 

"You've never done that before." 

"No. I told you that." 

"You did. Man, you're incredible..." This time, Blair stroked his fingers through Jim's short hair; reveled in the paradox of bristles and softness. "I love you, Jim. I love you so much it hurts." 

"I love you too, Blair. I'll always love you."   
  


* * *

Epilogue - Living

"Well, Chief?" Jim sat in the lobby of the medical center, in the same seat he'd sat in twice a week, every week, for over a year now. *Convenient*, he mused, *that the building houses medical and counseling services. Saves us extra trips.* Blair sat down in the chair next to him, a huge grin on his face. 

"We're clean. The tests came back negative." 

"Thank God." 

"We still need to come back every six months for a while." 

"I know." 

"I hate thinking I'm putting you at risk." 

"Chief, the odds are--" 

"I know, slim. Still." 

"Blair, the chances that Caldwell was HIV-positive are--" 

"No better or worse than the chances that he wasn't. I'm still going to worry about it for a long time to come." 

"I wish you'd let me finish a sentence, once in a while." Jim grinned down at the younger man. "What about Dr. Peli?" 

"He says I'm done whenever I'm ready to be done. There really isn't anything left to resolve. I told him I wasn't going to schedule anymore appointments, unless something came up." 

"You feel all right about that?" 

"I wouldn't do it if I didn't." 

"Good. Ready to go then?" 

"Oh yeah. I've got some things I need to finish up at home, then I need to get over to the University." 

"Okay then. I can get you the home part. I've got some paperwork to do too. You're on your own for school." 

"Deal." They stepped out into the sunny cold day.   
  


* * *

Jim

Last journal entry for me, hopefully forever. Our HIV tests came back today--negative. I hope like hell they continue to do so. It wouldn't change how I feel about him if he did test positive; but I don't think I could stand to have to watch him slowly die, right in front of my eyes. What we went through after Caldwell was as close to death as I care to come, for a long, long time. 

We're settling into a new routine now; getting some of our old lives back. It's been just over a year now since Blair was raped; and so much has changed since then. We've 'gone public' with our relationship; inasmuch as we feel is necessary. Simon, and a few others know we're more than just friends or partners; anyone else who wonders can keep wondering. 

I wake up every morning thinking how lucky I am to have Blair by my side--as friend, guide, partner, lover. I couldn't ask for more. I used to take him for granted; that will never happen again. He means too much to me, and having come so close to losing him, I won't risk it again. I wish I knew how to show him how much he means to me... Maybe I'll ask him to marry me. I wonder what he'd say?   
  


* * *

Blair

Last journal entry. I think I'll burn them when I'm done. It was good therapy, but I don't care to keep them around to re- read when I'm bored. 

Both of our HIV tests were negative. Thank whatever God is watching over us. I hope it keeps on being that way--I can't stand the thought of hurting Jim anymore than he's been hurt. That goes both ways--I don't want AIDS, and I don't want to infect him. That would hurt far worse than getting it myself. 

I'm done with counseling. I'm done with the whole mess. I've put it behind me now, and I'm ready to get on with life. It was on hold for far too long as it was. I've requested an extension for my dissertation, and I think they're going to approve it. I hope so. 

Jim and I went public. Well, as much as Jim's public about anything. What that means is that Simon knows, and I can kiss Jim around him now. Whatever. That was never important to me. Just being with him is enough--I don't care who knows, or who doesn't know. I wish I could think of some way to show him how much I love him; how thankful I am to him for being there when I needed him to be. Maybe I'll ask him to marry me--I wonder what he'd say?   
  


* * *

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